


The Spotlight's Glare

by ThatSassyCaptain



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: 10th Class, Action/Adventure, Angst, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gangsters, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Blood, References to Drugs, Suspense, Team as Family, Texas, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSassyCaptain/pseuds/ThatSassyCaptain
Summary: Scout and Sniper go missing, Spy recruits a reluctant chauffeur, and Engineer gets a lot more trouble than he bargained for. Sometimes, you need a woman's touch to straighten things out.OrScout's Ma gets the boys together to go after Scout whether they wanted to or not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering if this might be the reason I didn't update anything all summer- don't worry it's not. I wrote this all in 2 weeks in June

He was six hours late. Six hours late, and a dead man.

Scout’s mother sat in her living room, twirling a glass of wine in one hand and thumping an envelope against her leg with the other. She was antsy. Had been for the last three hours. It was too long for an ordinary flight delay. That, and he hadn’t called to say he was changing his plans. No boy of hers would dare be so rude unless it was an emergency. They were a wild bunch, sure, but she raised them better than that.

A glance at the clock confirmed it _had_ been six hours. The thing was still ticking. No chance it’d stopped at an odd time. That only strengthened the worry in her gut. Call it a mother’s intuition, but she knew something was wrong.

She downed the rest of the wine, pushed herself up from her armchair, and started for the phone. The wineglass was abandoned on the counter. She kept the envelope clutched in her hand. East Coast time was different from New Mexico time. Odds were, _somebody_ would be up to answer the phone. And if it was him, oh boy, would he get an earful.

Taking care to dial the number she’d memorized for emergencies, she held her breath and waited. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. She was about to hang up and redial when she heard the receiver click.

_“Hello? Uh, Miss Pauling?”_

It wasn’t him, but she did breathe a sigh of relief. Somebody answered. “No, no. Sorry, but is Jeremy there? The uh, Scout, can you put him on?”

There was quiet on the other end of the line. She could nearly hear the frown on the man’s face.

“ _No ma’am. I’m real sorry, but he left for Boston this morning. Hopped right out the door at five A.M.”_

Her fingers tightened around the envelope. So he’d made it out the door but… Somewhere along the way something had happened. Maybe between the base and the airport; maybe he’d already landed and had run into trouble in town…

“ _…ma’am? Ma’am are you still there?”_

She took a deep breath and answered. “Yeah, yeah I’m still here. You sure he left? He ain’t home and he said he’d be here by five as long as he made his flight from DFW. Jeremy wouldn’t do this- he wouldn’t change his plans without callin’ or nothing. Something had to’ve happened.”

“ _Whoa, slow down Mrs... Uh, ma’am just hang tight for a second. Can you hold while I go ask around the base? Some other folks left about the same time as him. I bet somebody knows where he went.”_

“…Sure thing.” She held tight to the receiver. Other people had seen him leave. Somebody could tell her where her boy had gone and how.

“ _Alright, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”_ There was a _clack_ as the phone was set down. She could hear somebody moving around over there. The receiver picked up voices on the other end, but she could only understand so much.

“ _Hey Doc, you see who all left at the crack of dawn this morning? I know ‘bout Sniper and Scout, but did anybody else go with ‘em?”_

_“No, I do not think so. Heavy did not leave until after lunch, and I don’t think Solider is truly leaving... Why do you ask?”_

“ _There’s a lady on the phone askin’ after Scout. I reckon it’s his mother. Says he didn’t show up when he ought’ve.”_

The voices started to move off. She was beginning to wonder just how long it was going to take to get some answers, when there was another sound. Someone else was picking up.

“Hello?”

“ _It is you, is it not ma petite?”_

That was a voice she hadn’t expected to hear.

“He didn’t make it home, Frenchie. My boy didn’t so much as call.”

There was a pause on the other end. “ _You are sure he did not just neglect to mention a change in plans or take some asinine detour…”_

She huffed. “Frenchie. Jeremy wouldn’t. He _wouldn’t_ do this.”

It was quiet again. But that was par for the course. A man like him was always a little too quiet. He was probably thinking. Goodness knows _why_ he was at the base or where he’d been before that. She hadn’t heard from him in years, but right this moment there were bigger things to worry about. All she needed to know was that he was there. He would help.

“I’m coming down there. It’s late but Dave from the office can book me the next flight to Dallas.”

_“Ma belle-”_

“Don’t you ‘belle’, me, mister!” She nearly crunshed the envelope in her hand. The man could also be _infuriating_. “My baby boy is missin’, and I’m gonna go find him even if I gotta tip every cow in the state, you hear me?”

“ _Spy, what’re you doin’? Is she still on?”_ It was the man from before.

“ _Very well, ma belle, I will see you there.”_ In a louder voice, he addressed the other man. “ _You know it is rude to leave a woman on hold for so long, laborer. I thought those of you from the South had manners.”_

She stifled a chuckle as the phone changed hands. Leave it to Frenchie to be ruffling feathers.

_“I’m sorry for makin’ you wait, ma’am. I asked around the base, and Scout definitely left for the airport with somebody else. We’re gonna try and get ahold of him that way. Do you think you could give me a good number to reach you by when we hear something?”_

She smiled into the black plastic. It was plain Jeremy had made some friends down there. It warmed her heart to hear somebody so eager to look after her boy. _Two somebodies._ They could hold her back when she went for the kid’s throat.

“Well, you can look me up in Dallas tomorrow. I’m booking the first flight.”

/-----\

“Drive me to Dallas.”

“Spy, are you really askin’ me to-”

"I am not asking, laborer! You will drive me to Dallas."

Hand still on the receiver, the Engineer took in a breath, held it, and then released it slowly. For someone who puffed up his chest with talk of class and high-society tastes, Spy sure didn't have any manners. 

"I will not." Engie responded evenly. "I can see plain as day she's upset, but this is Scout we're talking about. He probably-"

Spy cut him off. "Not to his own mother. 'E may talk like nothing can phase 'im, that caring is for 'chuckleheads not worth his time', but when it comes to his _maman_..."

He had a point. Scout was a Mama's Boy, and everybody in the base knew it. He called home near as often as Sniper, and for longer periods of time to boot. The Engineer had been in Scout's room all of once, but the photograph of the kid, his Ma, and all his brothers stood out amongst the cans of BONK!, baseball memorabilia, and dirty clothes. The frame was worn smooth on the edges from handling, but the glass was always smudge-free and clear as crystal. Scout talked tough but reflecting on this, Engie couldn't believe he would change his plans without making sure his Ma got wind of it. 

"Well, if'n you're so worried, why not drive out there yourself? Make a night of it?"

Spy flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette. He wasn't looking Engie in the eye. "Driving is more your kind of work, _laborer_. If there was a cab in town, I would pay someone to do this tedious job for me."

Engie was no fool. He could rub two ideas together and get a spark, no matter how obtrusive the backstabber was being.

"What you're tellin' me is that you can't drive."

Spy tossed down his cigarette and stomped it viciously. He would not lose face in front of some West-Texas roughneck. So he angrily changed the subject.

"Judging by the well-kept state of your vehicle, one can assume you wish to keep it in this condition. Therefore, you will not get us killed in a fit of road rage. I would ask the bushman to do it, but 'e is the one that drove _Scout_ to the airport, so that is not an option. Solider has a license but I trust him no farther than I can throw him. Lastly, Medic..." Spy paused. "Let us say Medic is like with the car as he is with the Bonesaw."

Engie read that loud and clear. Despite the roundabout way Spy seemed to be asking him about getting a ride, there seemed to be something else fishy about this. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"I'm not driving you to Dallas."

" _Laborer-"_

He held up a gloved hand. "Scout's Ma sounded mighty upset on the phone, and I'm not one to argue with a mother's intuition." Engie grinned. "I'll drive you to _Fort Worth_. Never liked the Big D that much anyway."


	2. Chapter 2

When Scout came to, the first thing he felt was all the syringes from the BLU Medic's stinkin' little gun poking into his skull.

No, waitaminute...

He tried shaking the pins loose, only to find there were more of them. They ran up and down his spine, back through his shoulders, and down into his elbows. He couldn't feel half his arm or his pinky fingers for all the steel wool coursing through his veins. He felt like he'd been hit by a rocket and tossed off a hill. Maybe he _had._

First things first would be to open his eyes (dummy) and figure out why he'd taken this supposed tumble. Eyes open wasn't much better. The room was too freakin' dark, what with the one light blub hanging from the ceiling like something out of a bad gangster movie. Maybe Medic had tossed him in this murder-hole to teach him a lesson about falling off of stuff. Maybe the _BLU_ Medic had done it so's he could experiment on him later. Scout really, really hoped he kicked it before then.

This murder-hole theory was looking more plausible by the second. And the big stinkin' ropes done up around his arms, chest, and legs gave him the why for the pins and needles too. That was about when he realized he wasn't alone.

Directly behind him- and Scout could feel the warmth from another body too- a low groan echoed off the concrete wall. Scout tried to turn his head.

"Yo, who's there? What's goin' on here, man?" He couldn't crane his neck so far. This guy was tall, whoever he was, but he wasn't talking. Scout redoubled his efforts and managed to catch a glimpse of a door and something on the floor. An Akubra. Aw, geez, that could only be _one_ person.

"Snipes! Hey, Sniper, buddy, get up man! We're freakin' trapped in a death basement. You gotta help me out here!" Whether it was the words or the volume, something about Scout's plea seemed to be getting through. He could feel the Sniper moving, trying to get his bearings. He was waking up pretty quick.

It was a long moment before there was another sound in the room. Scout was holding his breath in a rare bout of silence. Of course, he'd start yelling his head off if Sniper started to black out again but-

"Piss."

That's it. He was awake. "OK, not hallucinatin' then. We're both stuck down here in this creepy little box for reals. You think it was the BLU Medic? He's been eyein' me kinda funny ever since I bonked him right before he charged his uber and, frankly, I'd hate to piss that guy off. Dude's almost as bad as Pyro, y'know what I'm sayin'?"

Sniper hadn't given any indication he knew what Scout was saying. He was too busy looking at the cinderblocks and dirt.

"Scout."

"I mean, who's to say what's under that mask, right? I think it likes Engie, not like, _like_ likes him I don't think it can do that, but it talks to him, y'know?"

" _Scout._ "

"But if it is, like, a real person, I bet it's a chick. Not because it couldn't be a dude or anything, but chicks don't sweat like evah, and brother I'm already sweatin' half t'death out there in just a t-shirt and-"

" _Scout!_ "

An angry Sniper might be enough to shut anybody up, but the kid couldn't take a hint. "Geez, man, what's eatin' you? Just spit it out already!"

Sniper wanted to pause and count to three, but Scout would likely restart that motor mouth of his in the meantime. He cut to the chase.

"What's the last thing you remember before this... the uh, murder hole?"

Scout had to think a second. "Ok, so like, uh... I think Respawn was on the fritz again and the Administrator was like, ready to start killin' BLUs herself, when she just up an' gives everybody unpaid vacation time. Go home, all that shtick. I was gonna go visit Ma, and you were gonna go get wasted with koalas or some-"

"Right." Sniper interrupted him before this could go any further. "I don't think we made it to the airport."

Scout looked around. "What tipped you off, dummy? The lack of hot flight attendants, or the fact that we're tied up in a freakin' _murder hole!_ "

It wasn't much of an intellectual leap, but Sniper felt like he'd had enough. "Scout, listen to me. Somethin' big's goin' on here, and this is going to be a _real_ murder hole if you don't shut your trap and pay attention. Do you remember anything else after we left? Stopping for petrol?"

Scout didn't like being told to shut up in any situation, but Sniper was right. He thought back to the agonizing 10-hour drive, how bored he was of the van, Sniper's repeated threats to toss him out the window...

Those three shady guys at the Sunoco station. It all came rushing back. Dude took one look at the van and everything was so dark and _hot_ and he could hear Sniper yelling, pounding on the roof of the trunk-

 _"Holy crap._ " Scout looked around the room again with fresh eyes. He shivered slightly, remembering bits and pieces from the gas station. Sniper's little air freshener got torn off. And he'd lost one of his shoes, somehow. The sock was still there. Scout wiggled his foot. So were all the toes.

"I think," Sniper started up again when Scout got quiet, "you passed out first in the boot, but it was hot enough t'where I wasn't far behind. That's the last thing I remember." He paused. "Bushwhacked me before I could lift the pump."

"Who were those guys?" Scout could feel a bit of dried sweat- or was it blood?- stuck on his scalp. There was his ball cap, lying on the floor at his feet. At least the ugly mugs let them keep their lids.

Sniper was quiet. Scout wouldn't think anything of it normally, as he was used to filling the air with talk, but he'd asked a question and the guy hadn't even given him an 'I don't know'.

"Snipes? Do you... do you know those guys?"

He could feel the man take a breath to answer him when they were interrupted by what sounded like feet on stairs.

"Storm cellar then." Sniper muttered, then more urgently: "Scout, you have to trust me. Whatever you do, just keep your mouth shut. I don't care what they say, or what they do, but talk and we're both dead, got it? Let me handle this."

Scout didn't like being told to shut up in any situation, but the door swung inwards before he could get a word in edgewise. He squinted in the low light. One of those guys was definitely from the gas station, but the other three could've been anybody. Well, they were _probably_ from the gas station- at least two of them- but they _could've_ been anybody for all Scout remembered.

One of them was clearly the boss. Even from over Sniper's shoulder, he could see the dude's cufflinks were glinting. Nobody had junk that glittery unless they were makin' bank. This really _was_ a bad gangster movie.

"Mundy, Mundy, Mundy," The boss guy started, and Scout had to bite his lip and try not to think about bad hype men. "Never thought I'd see you in the lower 48 again. Did you forget about me?"

"Like I could forget a mug 's ugly as yours." Sniper was facing the brute squad. Scout, for once, followed somebody else's advice and stayed quiet.

Al Capone's cliché brother actually laughed. "I'll let it slide, Mundy. It's been too long. What have you been up to? Still double-crossing people?"

"That ain't how it went and you know it. A job's a job, and I did mine."

The room got chilly all the sudden. One of Sniper's hands tapped his arm, like some reminder he needed to stay quiet. Scout wasn't the sharpest spoon in the drawer, but he knew life or death when he heard it.

"Was it your job to let the rest of the gang take the heat while you packed it off to kangaroo land or wherever it is you park that van of yours?"

Sniper's eyes narrowed. "Nope. Wasn't my job to help 'em neither."

It... Scout knew he wasn't super good with making people _not_ want to punch him, but he was surprised the guy held back so long with the way Sniper was going. He felt Sniper shift, then all the sudden there was a _thwack_ and they both pitched sideways. Scout got a face full of dirt. Sniper didn't try to push himself back up. And gee, Scout knew what he ought to be doing, but it never stopped him before.

"Snipes? Man, say something, are you dead back there?"

"So the kid does talk. Who's he to you, Mundy?"

Scout knew he'd screwed up when Sniper not only found but also grabbed his arm again between them.

"We work together, man."

"He's the delivery boy."

They spoke about the same time. Scout knew the stuff they did at RED was mega-ultra top-secret, but it seemed like Sniper was a better liar than him. Maybe, perhaps, he oughta let the big guy take the lead on this one. Just... just this once.

"Delivery boy? Is that what you two are doing out here in that grimy old van? Deliveries?" Something in the guy's tone told Scout the dude wasn't buying it. That, or he believed it _partway_.

"Sorta." Sniper fired back. Scout felt him moving again and found that one of the goons was righting the fallen pair. Upright, he craned his neck to catch some of the conversation. In for a penny...

"Do explain, please." Boss Dino or whoever this clown was had this crazy glint in his eye. For like, half a second, Scout was reminded of the BLU Spy.

"We're s'posed to meet a dealer in Dallas about some guns. The kid's the only one with the call sign, straight from the boss. Can’t see the goods without it. Figured bein' fresh and baby-faced might make him stick out less. They'll call in when we don't show up. It'll be trouble for you, mate, big trouble."

The dude actually laughed. "So you're back in the game, _in the States_ , and they sent you to babysit. Unbelievable." There was a kind of steel to his voice. Something that implied the next words out of his mouth might be deadly.

"He's here to, y'know, make sure the goods are uh, good. I don't... uh... do that _gun_ thing." Might as well roll with Sniper's story. He didn't know what all a less than legal delivery boy would do, but it probably wasn't weapons, right? Maybe a knife or somethin', but not-

"Oh, he's pretty green, isn't he, Mundy? First big job?" Dude laughed some more. "This is rich. I never thought I'd see you again outside of a casket, and here you are, honing in on my turf with Little Joe."

Sniper squeezed Scout's arm harder, a _big_ sign to shut up. "Ain't here to hone in on nothin', mate, just gettin' some guns and takin' 'em back west. Got somebody payin’ big for 'em, provided I call 'im back and give it the go-ahead."

That gave their captor some pause. "They payin' cash?"

"The boss said he'd send his man. His uh... _enforcer_. Make sure the sale goes through. Real fixer-type, that one-"

"So, what's stopping me from knocking off the dealer, having you call your boss, and putting two in you and the kid here?"

Scout froze. Despite all the bad lines, this guy meant business. He was gonna kill them both in this death basement and Respawn was _offline_ and-

"Might as well put two in me now, 'cause I ain't a fool. You don't backstab the big man like that."

"Not like you backstabbed us?"

Scout felt Sniper shake his head. "Naw, mate, it's different. See, I know you'd kill me slow, do a bit of torture and all, but the big man..." He shuddered. Scout conceded; Sniper was a better liar. "... He was... a doctor. _Once_. Folks don't talk much about what 'e did before startin' out in America, but you hear things. And see people. I wouldn't double-cross a man who once sewed a live bird into a man's ribcage."

 _Ugh_. It was Scout's turn to shudder. Apparently, he'd been seen too. He felt the eyes on the back of his head.

"You tellin' me Mundy's not having us on?"

"Nah man, nah he..." Scout had to think up something convincing and quick. Might as well tell the truth. Part of it. "It was the worst thing I ever saw. There was... feathers and blood and, and this guy's skin just bulging and _rippling_ 'cause the bird was try'n'a get out-"

He swallowed hard. He was going to make himself sick if he kept going. "Guy's a lunatic." Scout left it at that.

The cellar was quiet for a long time. Scout grabbed Sniper's arm back, trying to let him know he'd done all he could and was gonna let this play out.

"What kind of operation did you get yourself into, Mundy?" The guy was almost appreciative; like he respected the twisted picture of Medic the two of them had painted. "Tell you what, I'll give you a chance to call this _enforcer_ of yours and tell him the terms have changed. Then, you'll tell me where I can find these guns."

Sniper seemed to think about it. "Don't think he'd like that much."

"He doesn't have a choice if he wants the guns and his _specialist_ back."

Scout's brain was screaming _what about me_ when one of the goons started circling them. "And just to let you know we're serious..."

A huge hand grabbed Scout by the collar- goon was nearly as beefed up as Heavy- and pulled him off the ground. Sniper started coming with, but it didn't seem to matter to the gorilla.

"Hey, hey! Waitaminute! Cut it out, will ya?" Goon's hand started going to his coat. Oh, this was bad, this was _real bad-_

"It only takes one man to send a message after all."

Goon had a pistol and Scout felt all the blood drain from his face. Perhaps preemptively.

"Stop it! Louie, don't- the kid's the only one with the code! Knock him off and the whole thing's shot. The dealer will disappear, and then the big man's comin' to town and bringing all his little knives with."

Scout was about a second away from an extra earhole when this guy Louie held up a hand. "Alright, boys, let him be." Scout and Sniper dropped back to the dirt. Both were breathing hard. "I'll find us a phone, and come back when I've got something written out for you to say. You're not gonna double-cross me again, Mundy."

With that, the whole lot of them headed out he door and up the stairs. It closed, and they were alone again.

Sniper actually beat him to the punch. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah yeah." Scout said hurriedly. "I been killed a million times. I wasn't scared of that dude's wimpy little pop gun." He paused, trying to figure out what he wanted to ask before the atmosphere had gotten all shooty. "So... you know that guy?"

"Yeah." Sniper didn't elaborate. Scout pressed him.

"Yeah? And?"

"Used to work with him. Stopped. He wasn't happy."

"Cause you backstabbed him."

"Because I left when th' job was done and he and his boys couldn't be bothered to clean up after themselves." Sniper let out a huff of air. "Thinks it's my fault 'cause I was the only one who got when the getting was still good."

"Oh." Scout figured it was like, his Ma gettin' all the rest of his brothers in trouble but letting him off easy 'cause he was the baby. They'd beat up on him after that, but it was just the luck of the draw, wasn't it? "Well, that was pretty slick all that stuff you made up about Medic. Nice touch with the bird thing too, even though it gives me the creeps. Ain't goin' nowhere near no birds after that, for sure."

"Well, he bought it, which gives us the chance to call the base and let 'em know we're in a jam. I worked out a code with Engie, tell 'im everything's peachy and he knows it's gone sideways."

"You that paranoid?"

"Yeah."

Fair was fair. Now, they had a way out of this, provided he could get a little more than 'Engie we're so screwed' past Louie and the boys. Who'd've thought they run into an outdated mobster scene in _Texas?_ Scout just wanted to see hot chicks at the new airport and fly back to Boston. Was that so much to ask?

"So," Scout piped up again, "What do we do now?"

Sniper sighed and tried to get comfortable. Texas clay was hard. "We wait."


	3. Chapter 3

This was basically a win-win for him. Soon as he'd made sure Scout was all right and his Ma really didn't have a reason to worry, he could hop onto '35 and be home free in less than three hours. That is, if the State Troopers didn't catch him doing 105 on a dry stretch. Then again if the had all this time on their hands, _maybe_ Spy would let him take a look at that cloaking device...

The Engineer snapped the locks shut on his suitcase. It was a long drive from here to the Metroplex. Hopefully, Spy wouldn't be one of those _fussy_ passengers who was always hanging on the handle and giving advice where none was necessary.

"If you are done dragging your feet...!"

Maybe he'd set his hopes too high.

"Play nice, slim, I'm doing you a favor." He hefted his suitcase as easily as he would his toolbox and made for the door. There was Spy, waiting for him on the other side. He had what looked more on the order of a briefcase than something he ought to bring on traveling. Maybe he expected this to be an overnight trip. Maybe he was going wardrobe shopping. In any case, Spy packed light and that meant they were _maybe_ light enough to hit 110 if the backstabber wasn't a wuss about it.

Spy straightened his tie dramatically. "The bushman's plane does not leave until tomorrow at noon. If we make good time, I can dispose of the body before takeoff."

Engineer sighed. "We're not killin' Sniper. Heck, the dang van might've just broken down somewhere between here and civilization. That's reason enough to miss a flight. There's a big stretch of sweet, gorgeous _nothin'_ in West Texas, and Scout could be tryin' to call his Ma while she's usin' her phone to book a flight." And if he knew Sniper, they’d’ve gone on the _fastest_ route. Less time trapped with Scout that way.

"Then we will have to find whatever broken down _podunk road_ they 'ave broken down on." Spy stopped to shift the briefcase to the other hand. "Or... We find whomever is responsible and make them _apologize_."

That was the thinnest veiled threat he thought he'd ever heard. Engie knew Spy usually played his cards closer to his chest, but as it was, he looked _awfully_ eager to both impress Scout's Ma and to meet her in Dallas. Did he expect to greet her at the airport in his best suit, arms open and Scout stuck waiting in the car with his impromptu chauffeur? Maybe it was all an elaborate plot to get rid of Sniper once and for all. Engie knew they shared an animosity- joked about it with Sniper a bunch- but was Spy really this petty?

He might be, he just might be...

"Herr Engineer!" He turned, spotting Medic nearly _bouncing_ down the hallway. They ought to get out while they could.

"Sorry, Doc, we're about to hit the road."

Medic's face fell, but only slightly. "That is a shame. I take it Scout has gotten himself into some trouble, yes?" He gave Spy a snide look. "Need someone to translate all of those 'giddy-ups' and 'yeehaws'?"

It was bad enough Spy getting onto him about where he was from, but coming from Medic it just sounded ridiculous. And of course, it wasn't stopping there.

"His entire suitcase is filled to the brim with _spurs_. I think they are a bribe for the local officials."

Engineer paused, blocked out the snickering, and took a breath. "If you ladies are done _tittering_ , I'm gonna go load up the truck. Let me take that." He grabbed the briefcase from Spy. "Reckon your arms might be gettin' tired hoistin' up that ego of yours."

It wasn't a good dig. Engineer prided himself on not getting mad at little things, but he wasn't gonna take anything off these two bozos, 'specially since he was going out of his way to help one of them. He wasn't a pushover. Spy needed to understand that this was something _nice_ of him, something he likely wouldn't do if he hadn't spoken to the poor woman herself. And he best get his attitude in check. Folks back home didn't all have the same slow temper as he did.

He approached the truck in a black mood, and nearly ran headlong into somebody in the dark. "Pyro!" He started, "Shoot, I couldn't see you there. What're you up to in the garage? Lost your lighter?"

The soft _click_ and the appearance of a little flame answered one of his questions. Pyro's grabby fingers snatching and tossing Spy's briefcase into the truck bed answered the other.

"Don't worry, I wasn't plannin' on leaving without saying goodbye." It was a pretty touching thing, Pyro coming out to meet him. Whatever happened out on the field, the little firebug could be almost _sweet_ back at the base. Sweet, but intensely creepy.

"Mrrph rrn mmph hrddah huh." The lighter stayed on a moment longer, lighting up the reflective slits in the Pyro's mask. Engie's free hand went for the light switch.

"Yeah, Spy's being his usual self. Can't tell if he's trying to impress Scout's Ma or just get the chance to bump off Sniper. Seems kinda like the scoundrel thing he'd do, too. But, she didn't sound like a lady who took kindly to fools. I reckon she can take care of herself. After all, she managed to keep Scout straight long enough to survive his... somewhat extended adolescence."

Pyro nodded in agreement. A lot of their talks went like this, with Engie doing the heavy end of the talking.

"I'd ask you to come along, but frankly I'm not too keen on washing blood out of the seats again. No offense, little buddy, but I couldn't tell which of you two I'd have to bury at the one-hour mark. That is, if y'all made it that long."

An eerie, soft chuckle came from the depths of the mask. Pyro didn't scare him, per se, but fear and 'the willies' were a whole lot different, weren't they?

He put his suitcase more gently in the bed and grabbed some bungee hooks to make sure the two cases didn't slide. Engie knew his truck like the back of his mechanical hand. Sometimes, it was just as much an extension of himself too. He knew when she was runnin' funny, or carrying a different load than usual. Spy and Medic could say what they wanted, but there _was_ a certain bond between a man and his truck. At least, there was with this one.

Spy chose this moment to rear his ugly head. "If you are done fraternizing with that _thing_ , we will go. As much pleasure as I would get in seeing Scout and Sniper eaten by armadillos, I doubt their mothers would be pleased."

" _Oh,_ " Engineer said without missing a beat, "So _that's_ why you want Stretch outta the picture so bad." He nudged Pyro and headed for the driver's side door of the truck. The window glass muffled any sputtering on Spy’s part. If only that worked _inside_ the car.

* * *

 

The base phone rarely rang, so when it did, the Demoman was surprised enough to get up and answer. Who would be calling so late at night?

"Hello? Miss Pauling?"

" _I'm calling for the Big Man."_

Demo paused, looked around the kitchen, and then remembered that Heavy was probably in California by now. The Russian was aiming to hit the beach and hit it hard. "You missed him by a couple of hours, mate. Had to get to the coast in a hurry."

" _I expect you can pass along a message."_

He squinted his eye. Sure, Heavy probably had friends. Friends that didn't sound Russian. Friends that weren't too friendly sounding either. Before Demo could respond, he heard the receiver change hands.

" _Engie?"_

It was Sniper! What was the ol' Aussie dog doin' having someone else call and ask for Heavy?

"Naw, mate, it's me! What're you up to, boyo?"

There was a pause on the other end. " _Everything's peachy. We made it to town, and it's all running smoothly. You stayin' sober on the job like we talked about?"_

Now it was Demo's turn to hesitate. Sniper wasn't usually this positive about anything, at least not outright. And when did he ever encourage sobriety on the job? Something was up.

"You in trouble, mate?"

" _Yeah, yeah, the kid was a handful but I managed not to kill 'im before we got here. Just tell the Doc- the boss we've got a slight change of plans, and the dealer wants the cash up front. Can you do that?"_

Alarm bells were ringing in Demo's head. It was plain as the patch on his eye that Sniper was in big trouble. Whoever was forcing him to make this call- and his gut said there _was_ someone- they were in control. Wait a mo- _the kid._

"Is Scout still with you?"

" _Yes. Understood."_

Demo heard a soft ' _That's enough'_ from somewhere else in the room. The phone changed hands again.

" _You got all that?_ _Tell the Boss he needs to send the enforcer with the cash, pronto."_

"Alright then." Demo said coolly. "But he'll be right _disappointed_ if the goods aren't intact."

" _The faster he gets here, the better condition they'll be in."_

The line went dead.

"I did my piece, Louie. Now tell your men to _lay off_."

Louie's grin was dirt and oil. Made his own skin crawl, but at least he'd gotten a message through. Demo was plenty smart, even when he was three sheets to the wind. He could pass the message along to the others, well enough. Then Louie and his pals would have seven-odd angry mercenaries bearing down on their operation. Maybe not Spy, and Heavy left about when they did, but _at least a couple_ of mercenaries. Demo and Engie for sure. Maybe Pyro. Little firebug seemed to trail after one or the other of them like an arsonist puppy. He thought he'd done well for keeping his voice even with a gun pointed right between his eyes.

"See, you did what I asked _technically._ Although you relayed the message I asked of you, there's one small problem." Louie clapped his hands together in punctuation. Sniper felt his gut drop. "That fella on the other end of the phone seemed to think you were in some kind of _trouble._ Of course, the change of terms might've tipped him off, but I think it was _you._ "

He had to keep a cool head. Couldn't show weakness or it would be exploited. That was the way it was with this gang. Be polite, be efficient, have a plan to make sure everyone you meet doesn't kill you first.

"Course, I can beat you senseless, but you ain't got much sense left to beat out. Frank," he called to one of his guys, "make sure the kid knows that his buddy screwed up."

Frank took off down the stairs and Sniper willed himself to stay still. No expression. He couldn't so much as twitch, or Louie would have him.

"He's still gotta be able to talk," Sniper dared, "or we're both dead."

"You got a point." Louie conceded. "Frank!" He called down the stairs, "Not the face. Anything else's game."

Striving to remain casual, Sniper leaned against the wall near the phone. Louie might be onto him, but he could still play the long con. Keep Scout alive, stall for time, and hope Engie got the message. Engie and Demo were more than enough match for these clowns. In fact, if they hadn't got the drop on them at the petrol station...

Sniper had been squinting at the pump and buttons, hoping he'd pulled up to the one that had diesel, when one of the cab doors flew open. He whipped his head around and was about to give Scout an earful when something bashed him over the back of the head. He'd hit the ground with the van in full view. Scout was being dragged out the passenger door by... He hadn't seen 'Brass Frank' Busch in fifteen years, but he recognized him like he'd recognize any old enemy. Somebody grabbed the back of Sniper's collar, and he was hauled off the ground like he weighed nothing.

"Move the van around back and get these two to Frank's car. Louie's gonna be _livid."_

He heard the telltale click of a car boot and quickly found the inside. Scout came hurtling in after him. The hatch shut. Sniper knew what dangers a hot car held, had been warned about them countless times. And he didn't know how long they'd be in here on top of that.

"Scout." He tried shaking the kid's shoulder, but all he got in response was a groan. Bad news. If he was already out, the extra blow from the heat could kill him.

"Open this door, you bloody-" He heard the other car doors close, and the engine roared to life. They were really trapped now. No getting out while the car was in motion, and he couldn't much maneuver to kick the taillights out with Scout in the way. He tried shaking the kid again, but this time there wasn't anything. Out like a light.

The car hit a pothole and Sniper got thrown into the ceiling. Unable to see, unable, to do much of anything, he threw an arm over where he thought Scout's head was and blacked out.

Was it so obvious why he wanted to keep the kid alive? Even with a gun pointed at his head, he'd risked trying to pass the message along to Demo. Scout was annoying, loud, messy, inefficient, rude, overly sociable, and had no concept of personal space.

But he was part of the team. The team that was like his family. They didn't think he was a crazed gunman, or if they did, that it was even a _bad_ thing. Most of them appreciated what he did, or at least thanked him when he covered them on the battlefield. Engie and Demo were always up for sharing drinks, Soldier never let his raccoons ransack the van, Pyro sat with him up in the loft in silence, Heavy let him borrow books, Medic _rarely_ commented on the jarate, and even Spy abstained from breaking into the camper. At least, he covered his tracks well if he did.

And Scout wanted to be friends too, in his own way. The kid was obviously from a big family, the way he scrapped and fought for his place at the table, his portion of dinner, his own space. But he also sought out company whenever he could. Sometimes, Sniper would drop in the base proper and catch him and Pyro watching _Star Trek_ or _Bonanza_ and making commentary. Scout did most of the talking, and for all the fuss he put up, actually seemed to enjoy the firebug's company as a TV buddy.

So, Sniper kept an eye on the kid. Took out Spies trying to take back the intel, or made sure the other Sniper didn't get a chance to try the same. It wasn't much, but it was what a loner and a shut-in like him could do. Scout seemed to appreciate it.

Now, he'd do what he could from a distance, as he always did.

"You gonna have 'im bash my head in next?" Sniper asked. "Or do I get a free pass because he's tirin' himself out breaking ribs?"

That wasn't the response Louie expected. It was written all over his face. "You'll get what's coming to you, Mundy. In fact, I don't think you're gonna be needed until that enforcer of yours finally shows."

Sniper braced himself. He might've bought Scout some time, but his was quickly running out.

Demo put the phone back on the wall plate and hurried out of the kitchen. He had to find Engie, since Sniper had asked after him personally. They were thick as thieves those two, and no doubt something he'd said would make more sense to the toymaker than it would to Demo.

The first person he ran across, however, was Medic, whistling a merry tune.

"Doc! Have you seen Engie? Sniper's got himself in trouble and-"

"Oh dear." Medic's cheery mood dampened visibly. "I'm afraid you have just missed him. He and the Spy have left for Dallas."

That was good, in a roundabout way. Somehow or another, Engie had gotten wind of the trouble and headed out. But how?

"Did either of them say something before they left?"

Medic inclined his head. "The Scout's mother called, and they both left in a hurry. But what is this you say about Sniper? He has contacted you?"

Demo nodded. "He's in trouble alright. Him and Scout both. Said something about a deal going down and wantin' the cash up front. I don't know anything about all that, but I think he was stalling. But, it's good to know Engie and Spy are on the way. They'll straighten this out."

It seemed cut and dry, but for the fact that neither the Engineer nor the Spy knew about this new sinister element. Medic let Demo pass without mentioning the fact. There _was_ something he could do in the meantime. Just to make sure.

Medic made for the kitchen phone, dialed a number he'd written down yesterday, and waited.

"Ah, Mein Freund, you have made it to the hotel safely. I am sorry to be calling so late at night, but something rather unusual has come up. I will owe you a large favor, but are you willing to make a detour?"

Scout had been in possibly hundreds of fistfights. Those in New Mexico had ended with significantly more death than the ones of his youth in Boston, but he knew his way around hand-to-hand.

So did this Frank guy.

Sniper was a better actor than him, he gave the guy all that credit, but he needed to figure out a way to step up his game if he wanted to make it outta this in one piece. He did what he usually did to start off a fight, put on his game face and tell this guy he's fought bigger and won. But, usually he wasn't tied up in a cellar without so much as a bat or a gun in sight.

And Frank had a pair of brass knuckles. 'Bout the meanest piece of equipment ever sold wholesale, those things were designed to punch the crap outta whatever was in front of you. They were nothing like Heavy's freakin' _steel boxing gloves,_ but they hurt plenty. Scout felt like he needed a change of tactics or a plan or something.

So, he did the unmanly thing and played possum. Maybe not possum, but it was kinda like when one of his brothers beat up on him too good, and he'd go to his Ma acting like it hurt way worse than it did so they'd get in trouble. And he was supposed to be some greenhorn delivery kid, right? Some lightweight who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag.

"Man... I didn't do nothin'... please..." That sounded _pathetic_ , even to his ears, but after getting wailed on for a solid ten minutes or more, it did the trick. The wheeze he'd worked up from all the body blows helped sell it, and soon Frank was dropping him on the floor and clearing out. Piece of cake.

Scout stayed real still in case somebody else came down. Everything hurt. He was sore all over, but it wasn't the worst he'd ever felt. Clearly ol' Frank over there'd never fallen off the side of a cliff in the desert. _That_ was serious pain. Being blown up by a rocket totally counted too, even though you only felt it for a second.

Unfortunately, he still couldn't move. Scout tried to see if anything was dislocated, so he could wriggle free like the guys did in the movies. No dice. Frank was careful. Obviously, these guys bought Sniper's story about all that criminal organization crap. Heck, he'd even got them all scared of Medic. Maybe it wasn't just dumb luck Scout had managed to evade a bigger beating. If they thought he was real important an' all, they might be taking it easy.

It was a long while before anything else happened. Scout was still stuck on his side and bored out of his skull. They'd taken Sniper to make that phone call a real long time ago. Who knows how that had gone, or what had happened since?

Finally, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Scout played dead again. Maybe they'd lay off if they thought he was still wasted from the last beat-down. He squeezed his eyes shut like the baby he was pretending to be, but nobody kicked him. Surprisingly, somebody just grabbed him by the shirt and sat him back up.

They'd brought Sniper back. Dude was real quiet, but he was always like that so Scout wasn't gonna worry yet. At all. He wasn't worried. He kept his eyes shut and waited for the goons to finish up and leave. They were pretty handy with these knots, so it wasn't long a wait.

The door shut and Scout popped his eyes open. "Yo, Snipes, you alive back there?"

His heart was beating fast in the second that passed, but then a groan and a quiet "Barely." broke the silence.

"Dude, what did they do to you? Al Capone get his shorts in a knot or what? That guy Frank don't pull his punches, but you sound like you got run through the freakin' sawmill and spit out the other side."

Sniper coughed and Scout felt him try to sit up straighter. "Sounds about right." He coughed again. "I got a message through to Demo, but Louie heard it too. Figured it wasn't worth killin' me over, but not by much."

"Aw crap." Scout frowned but brightened up pretty quickly. "Hey! That means help is on the way, right? They'll be looking for us!"

"You got that right." Sniper seemed to lean a little bit more than he had earlier, but that was fine. Dude was probably tired from getting the crap kicked outta him. Whatever. Scout could sit up straight for the both of them. He was like, impervious to punches by this point in his life, probably.

"Cool, cool. Now all we gotta do is stay alive until whoever's pretending to be this enforcer gets here. Who do you think they're gonna send? The whole team? Just Heavy could take these guys."

Sniper took a moment before responding. "Not Heavy, remember he left right after us. I don't think Spy'd be in it, but he'll take any chance to have a laugh at my expense, so don't count 'im out. Probably Demo. Probably Engie, just 'cause they'd send somebody who can drive. There's only a few of us that know how, let alone 'ave licenses."

It was all pretty solid thinking. "Yeah, sounds good. How long do you think they're, uh, gonna take to get out here? Engie's like a speed demon so he might hurry or whatever, but it's like what, ten hours?"

"Eight and a half if you're Engie, but that's 'is top speed. If he's got the lads with him, maybe more like ten, yeah. And they still 'ave to find us."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well," Scout said, "we might be screwed, pal."


	4. Chapter 4

"You gettin' dawn crazy yet, or just tired?"

Spy did not want to respond to this, or any of the other attempts the Engineer had made at conversation, but it had been a long night and the laborer had to be kept awake. The sign for Lubbock had come and gone, and the very first hint of dawn was starting to creep into the sky.

Engineer had been right; the West Texas landscape had been utterly barren in the moonlight. The ground reflected like the desert, but sometimes rolled and swelled with the last of the Rockies. Spy had seen oil derricks kissing the land.

"The only crazy one around here is y- _Mon Dieu!"_   Spy's outburst nearly sent them off the road, but it gave Engineer's reflexes the time to avoid the road's newest traveler, an armadillo.

"Gracious alive, Spook, you nearly killed us both!" Engineer had two hands back on the wheel, and was glaring daggers behind his goggles.

Spy was trying to get his heart rate down. "What was that _demon_ doing out here?" It had looked like something straight out of the movies, some puppeteer's grotesque creation.

"The armadillo?" The Engineer was laughing at him. "They live out here. Second most common road kill counting squirrels. Don't seem to have the sense God gave a goose, but... You never seen one of these little guys before?"

Spy pursed his lips. "Not _in person_." He hated Texas already, and they weren't even close to the airport.

"You'll probably see plenty more. They're harmless little guys, not much use for 'em. And better hitting one of them than a cow."

"... That is a _possibility_?"

"More likely than you'd think. Bless my poor Mama's heart, the only two car accidents she's ever been in involved cattle. Country roads'll do that to you."

Texas sounded far more like a land of nightmares than Spy had been lead to believe. If the Engineer was anything to judge by, they had no taste. On top of that, the wildlife was a constant, passive danger. This wasn't Sniper's dangerous Outback, but it was hostile in a far friendlier way. Was that in itself not _more_ insidious?

"And this airport of yours, the planes carry more than one passenger, yes?"

Engie answered with a huff. "It's a brand-spankin'-new airport in a metropolitan area. They have passenger planes, bars, skyscrapers, cabs, and _anything else_ you'd expect with a bi-county population of over 2 million. If you think the whole state's like this dusty ol' road, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Spy crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Then when we get there, I am buying a drink. I do not care how crowded this airport is."

"...Might be hard purchasin' liquor before noon. Of course, if you're willing to stop at a grocery store and get a whole bottle of-"

"Curse you and your whole wretched state!"

Engie kept his mouth shut. Spy would feel better having the last word anyhow. It was only three more hours of silence before they saw something worth talking about.

"Pull over."

"The pointer's still on 'E' we can get another thirty miles out of her yet."

"This is not about _gasoline_ , laborer, now pull over."

Engie complied and brought the car into the driveway of the Sunoco station. It was early morning, but not too early for the place to still be closed.

"Go around back."

"The restrooms are gonna be inside a nice place like this not-"

"Are you listening to me, or is all you hear 'giddy-up partner, move them cows in'?"

That just made Engie angry. He floored it, launching the truck down the side of the station and yanking the wheel near hard enough to flip them. The truck bounced to a stop, and Spy inadvertently pulled the handle off the cab roof.

"There! We're 'round back! Now what was so darn important that you had to..." Engie looked around and _immediately_ saw what had gotten Spy's attention. It was Sniper's van. "Well I'll be."

Spy cleared his throat. "Indeed." He set the handle on the floor and reminded himself _not_ to piss off the Engineer while he drove. He did not have a death wish.

They both exited the truck and made their way towards the camper. It wasn't riddled with bullets or otherwise maimed. In fact, it looked the way Sniper usually left it. If the two of them didn't know better, they'd say the duo stopped for the night here. But if they did, Scout would've missed his flight by a whole day and Sniper would be hard-pressed to catch his own.

Engine looked through the passenger side window. There were six cans of BONK! in the floorboard, as well as one of Scout's shoes. That was odd. Why would Scout leave the van without a shoe?

"The keys are missing." Spy commented from the other side of the vehicle. "And that silly air freshener."

"It's not over here. Just fallout from Scout."

"Hmph." Spy rounded the van one more time, looking for signs of forced entry. He found none. "It appears as if they left it here. Though I cannot see _why_."

"Don't think Scout would leave with only one shoe. You know how he is about them."

"Just so." Spy started moving away from the van, back towards the self-service pumps. Engie followed after him, curious as to the man's methods. Spy stooped down and plucked something from the asphalt.

Engie came closer. "What'd you find?"

Spy examined whatever it was before turning and passing it off to his companion. Sniper's little air freshener. It had been run over by a set of tires, and judging by the frayed end of the elastic, ripped off the mirror.

"It explains why the bushman apparently wished to view the dashboard in his rearview mirror." Spy glanced around the lot. "Also why his seat had been adjusted for a person much shorter. Someone has moved his van."

"The same somebody that separated Scout from his shoe?"

" _Oui._ "

Engie paused, looked over at the van, and then back at his truck.

"You reckon Scout's Ma knows how to drive?"

* * *

 

It was a mistake telling Soldier what he'd heard.

It was a _big_ mistake letting Pyro overhear.

The firebug had immediately latched onto his arm, refusing to let go, while Soldier was up on the kitchen table outlining their plan of attack.

"We must infiltrate this den of Soviets quickly, before they corrupt Scout's already feeble mind with their communist brain-whisk!"

"Mrrphh! Mphh hrmrr!" Pyro tugged at his arm.

"Well said, private! They will have also brainwashed the cows. We will have to contend with the bovine threat first! How many barbeque grills can you carry? I can manage three with full stomach and a patriotic heart!"

"Lads, we aren't fightin' cattle."

"Then it is a stealth mission! I will assemble the disguises. Smokey Joe, you will assist me in stealing some hooves."

Demo sighed. It was outrageous, but at least Pyro let go of him. Maybe this could distract them long enough for him to come up with a real plan.

"Guten Morgen." Medic strolled into the kitchen, a happy, exhausted look on his face.

"Mornin' Doc." Demo replied. "You sleep at all last night?"

Medic walked over to the coffee maker and waved his hand. "Twenty minutes at the most. I have found the most _exquisite_  use for fermented cactus juice, but I digress. Where have Solider and Pyro run off to?"

Demo rolled his eye while Medic debated drinking straight from the coffee pot. "They're off to make disguises or... I couldnae tell you. Both of them want to go get Scout 'n Sniper out of this trouble they're in."

"I see." Medic opted to fake civility and drink from a mug. "If they must go, they would have to drive or hitchhike. I am sure you remember that Solider is on the no-fly list."

"Right." Who could forget the incident with the seventeen drums of crude oil and the pelican?

Medic waved his hand. "But it is of no consequence. Heavy is making the stop over to Dallas to help Spy and Engineer straighten this out."

"A stopover in Dallas from California?"

"I now owe him another favor, but I believe he was eager to go once I explained. Besides," Medic either lost track of what he was doing or planned to drink more sugar than coffee, "If it is as much trouble as you said, then they may need the help."

Demo pondered this new development. Heavy could handle himself. He could handle himself very well, especially when it came to killing people. With Spy's subtlety, Engie's brains, and Heavy's knack for intimidation, they might just be able to pull it off without casualties. Knowing them, they'd then _make_ some casualties, but it was a problem a whole days' drive away.

For the umpteenth time that day, the phone rang. Demo looked to Medic who looked back at him with an 'I'm drinking coffee and holding a spoon my hands are full' expression. Demo sighed loudly. "I'll get it."

He picked up the receiver. "Hello? ...Miss Pauling?" Probably not, but who _hadn't_ called them today?

" _Non, it is I."_

Spy. Spy hadn't called the base today.

"You both made it to Dallas then?"

" _Fort Worth, but yes."_ Engie's voice chimed in. It sounded like they were sharing a phone booth. " _Scout's Ma's flight doesn't land for another hour, but we wanted to call in. We found Sniper's van."_

"Was he in it?"

" _Unfortunately not. It deprived me the chance of getting rid of him and it in one go."_ Typical Spy. _"But we did discover something: neither the bushman or Scout left the van willingly."_

Demo nodded, though neither of them could see. "I figured. Got a call from Sniper late last night. He said everything was peachy, but that Medic, ‘the boss’ needed to have the cash up front for the deal. Didn't make any sense. Then some other bloke took the phone and asked for the enforcer. I think it was a threat."

There was silence on the other end for a long while. Spy finally spoke. " _Then they are in more trouble than we suspected. I keep tabs on everyone’s former associates, but this reminds me of something specific."_

Demo didn't ask the question Engie was busy pestering Spy about. It sounded to him like someone had it out for Sniper. Someone he knew.

"One more thing- Heavy's on his way from California. Medic called him down after we got word from Sniper. Thinks you two could use some muscle."

" _Tell Medic that's a wonderful idea. If we're bustin' up a gang we could use a guy who looks tougher than Slim here."_

" _Is that why you hid behind your dispenser the moment Scout spotted the BLU Spy in our base last Wednesday?"_

Demo didn't know how much more of this he could take. Thankfully, Medic tapped his shoulder. "If I may, Herr Demo?" He gladly relinquished the phone.

"Gentlemen, please." Medic began. "If you would meet Herr Heavy when his flight lands this evening, he will be able to assist you. I am also capable of driving down. Demo and Soldier will come with me. Is this an acceptable solution?"

Medic gave a few vague responses, said goodbye, and then hung up. Demo waited for an explanation expectantly. "We should leave for Dallas at once. I have a feeling this will take more time than I anticipated."

* * *

 

DFW International Airport was a pretty big, pretty messy place. Not messy in the way that it looked: DFW was spotless, a stunning display of gates, terminals, and only the residual signs of construction. No, it was messy because of the way it was _built._ Engie would've missed their terminal if it hadn't been for Spy's quick eye. Ramps, side ramps, and turnoffs were all marked but confusing as all get out. They were a far cry from the sparse road signs they'd encountered coming up.

"A-24, laborer." Spy began fiddling with his disguise kit. "You wait outside the gate, and I will collect Scout's mother."

"Alright, but she's riding in the middle seat. I don't think I can trust you this close to the wheel, after the armadillo incident."

Spy made a noise but didn't otherwise respond. They pulled up to the loading zone for A-24 and Engie put his hazards on. "Don't you be too long, lest they peg you for D.B. Cooper." Rolling his eyes, Spy activated his disguise- a surprisingly ordinary businessman- and exited the truck. Nobody so much as turned their head as he strolled into the terminal.

Engie turned the engine off and waited. None of the traffic officials would come for him here, far clear of the crosswalk and well-within loading zone limits. No, he was just an ordinary fella waiting for a man in a balaclava and a lady from Boston. Engie attempted not to look suspicious, that is, he hoped what he was already doing wasn't suspicious even though there wasn't anything wrong with waiting on an arriving flight. People did this everyday, and there wasn't anything wrong with it. No sir.

He had the jitters something fierce. Maybe it was being on the road too long. He felt antsy sitting in one place like this, even though he _could_. Loads of other people were waiting on arrivals too. He popped open the glove compartment, pushed aside his gun, and went for a tape buried under his entire history of insurance cards.

Dean "Tex" Martin Rides Again. Engie checked to make sure he'd rewound it- he always did after parking his truck back at the base- before blowing it off and sticking it in the cassette slot.

_'Yeah, I'm gonna change everything that holds a memory of you, oh yeah...'_

It was his usual driving music, something to preserve his nerves on the big trips. Couldn't stand the sound of the wind whistling by as he drove in otherwise total silence. Sure, he had other cassettes for the big trip from Bee Cave to New Mexico, but he always started with Dean. Didn't feel settled on the road until Tex Martin rode again. Engie relaxed. He'd switch it off when Spy reappeared, but it was nice to have for the time being.

He cracked the windows a touch, making sure the air would be circulating by the time his passengers got back. The day was spoiling to be a hot one, and three people in the front seat of a truck didn't make it cooler.

At long last, he spotted a familiar suit in the crowd. It was funny, how he recognized the suit but not the man behind yet another mask. Could Spy be _anybody,_ at _anytime_ , or just folks he'd killed out in the middle of New Mexico? Engie did not recognize this man, this potential murder victim, but the woman walking next to him was strikingly familiar.

He could see Scout got his looks from his father, whoever that was, but not everything. The boy's Ma was petite but not rail thin. She was shorter than Spy but not by a whole heck of a lot. Clearly more put-together than her son, but similar. There was a solid resemblance. And for such an early hour- after being on a flight no less- her hair and makeup were done with the precision of a practiced hand. The woman could've walked off a magazine shoot not twenty minutes ago and Engie would've been none the wiser.

Not to say Scout's mother was dressed to the nines. As the pair got closer, Engie could see some of the worry coming into visual range. Her dress was nice, something as nice as his own Mama used to get gussied up in to go to the store, but a little too wrinkle-free. Engie doubted she wore it much, if ever. A gift, maybe from her son. He'd gotten to know fabric fairly well with Textile Engineering, but the signs didn't stop there.

Scout's Ma had done her hair neatly, but on the flight she'd bumped it loose or fiddled with it enough to knock a few strands outside the order. He'd seen the same thing on Miss Pauling enough times to figure it was an earmark of stress.

They were getting awfully close to the truck, now. Spy pointed it out with one hand while dragging the lady's suitcase with the other. Engie tried to get a read on that disguised face, to sound out the situation. Spy's body language was a picture of forced calm. He had obviously picked up on the lady's state of mind, and was striving to make natural.

Engie took this as his cue. He made sure the hazards were still going and hopped out of the truck. He left his hardhat on the seat and headed around the other side to meet them.

"Howdy, ma'am. I'm the outfit's Engineer, we spoke on the phone last night." He held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances."

Scout's Ma smiled and shook his hand. "It was too nice of you to drive Frenchie all the way out here. I know how he gets when he's bored. Oh..." She stopped, realizing something. "I suppose I oughta call you the 'Spy', shouldn't I? Jeremy told me about how you gents have that 'top secret' vibe an' all." She stopped again, shook her head, and rested a hand at her hairline about where the do was coming apart. "Scout, I oughta call him Scout. One of you twos help me out here."

Engie and Spy exchanged a look. Of course, Spy's end of it was more condescending, but they both got the message. She was under a lot of stress- keeping to together remarkably, mind- and a little out of her area of expertise.

Engie took the lead on this one. "Around us, I reckon it's fine if you say whatever you like. If'n we start talking with the local law enforcement, we've got..." he scrambled for a better turn of phrase for 'fake names'. "...accredited aliases. We're not supposed to give out names- ours or each other's- if we're acting in a capacity affiliated with the company."

It was nervous talk, but mostly accurate. Since Sniper _and_ Scout had vanished, they decided it had become a 'company affiliated' affair. Though Spy seemed to think Sniper was the target, they couldn’t rule out the idea that it was more than that.

Scout's Ma took this all in and nodded. "I get it. Frenchie- _Spy_ told me one of your other guys was missin' too, an' that makes it complicated."

"Our Sniper, yes. He was the one driving Scout to the airport. We found his camper van at a gas station a couple miles out of town. I hate to say this, ma'am, but they _are_ missin'. It's not a matter of a missed flight after all."

A pinched expression appeared on the woman's face, and Engie was afraid he'd delivered it too bluntly. But Scout's Ma was no fainting lady. Her brows scrunched.

"I knew somethin' was the matter when he didn't call. With so many boys, you gotta drill it in 'em to call wherever they go, or else you get a call from the cops at t'ree AM tellin' you there was a street fight..." She put her hands on her hips and squared up to the two men. "So, where are we gonna start lookin'?"

Engie raised his eyebrows in Spy's direction and took the suitcase to load into the truck. It was Slim's turn to be in the hot seat. After all, it was _his_ idea to drive all the way out here. He ought to have a plan to get everyone back.

Spy straightened his tie. "We begin with the local law enforcement. It would be best to check the drunk tanks, in case they escaped and their story was not believable." He met the incredulous look. "You would think the same if  _you_ knew the bushman."

The suitcase was stowed with the rest of the luggage. Engie heard 'drunk tank' but his mind went to 'morgue'. Scout's Ma would need to know if that was the way the cards fell, but it might be best to keep her in the dark about that part of the search. Besides, it was looking very much like Scout and Sniper had been taken alive. If they _were_ to be murdered all the way out here, it likely would've happened at the van. Or, at least, there would be _signs_ in the van _._

"Well," Engie interjected, "the truck's loaded. I reckon we can book some hotel rooms, borrow their phones, and get a jump start searching." He got to the passenger side door and opened it for Scout's mother. "Ladies first."

"Sounds like a good plan, Tex." She accepted his hand-up into the cab. "Looks like we're all about to make like a trio of sardines."

Spy followed in after her and rolled his eyes. Once he was inside the truck, he removed his disguise and slammed the door. Engie hurried back to the driver's side door and climbed in after them. He settled his hardhat on the dashboard, started the engine, and put the truck in drive. They _were_ settled pretty close, but Engie could say he'd chauffeured worse car rides. Any time Solider wanted to go to the store outranked about every other trip.

He managed to get them out of the glistening new spaghetti bowl and back out towards TX-114. Now came the trickier part.

"Head east, towards Dallas."

The Engineer took a deep breath. "The van was closer to-"

"Laborer please- _oof_ -" Scout's Ma shifted enough for Engie to recognize an elbow to the gut. "Ahem. _Engineer_ , I assure you this has nothing to do with your precious Cowtown, and everything to do with where we will be able to find our missing teammates. When we have found them, we can complete your pilgrimage to the Stockyards."

So, Spy _had_ been listening during the long drive over. Fort Worth didn't seem like all that much compared to Dallas or an even bigger city, but it was near as close to Engie's heart as Bee Cave. Sure, Austin was a near neighbor to his hometown and the ol’ BCS would hold a piece of him forever, but there was just something else about Cowtown. It didn't have the big ol' capital building or the brand-new Texas Stadium. But when they drove up, he could get a peek of Landmark tower and the world's largest combination rotating clock, digital clock, and four-sided sign.

In his youth, he'd seen the CNB clock when it had first gone up. He was just starting his first PhD when he and some buddies got the wild idea to make the three-hour drive north for the unveiling of this engineering marvel. They arrived in town long enough to park across the Trinity River and watch the clock come to life at 2 in the morning.

After that, Cowtown had become a sort of escape destination. He'd clear his head to whatever 8-tracks he could get his hands on (and a few _10_ -tracks he'd managed to build with a little gumption and the help of his mother's record player) and take the I-35 straight up.

But this wasn't some wayward joyride. Finding Scout and Sniper was far more important. And, well, with a good pair of binoculars you could read the CNB time from Dallas.

"Alright. I know the lay of the land 'round hereabouts, if the highway construction hasn't shot that to pieces. They say every ten years it's a brand-new Dallas. Where ought I point us towards?"

Spy's hand made for his cigarette case, paused, and returned to the window rest. "A hotel with phones. Low profile. Somewhere a group like ours will not draw attention."

Engie made a turn in the right direction and started doing highway math. Once he'd added a ramp and carried over the lane change, he asked after the next part of the plan. "And then what? Might as well get our ducks in a row before we get there."

"But of course." Spy's fingers twitched again, but whether it was the truck or the lady's presence, he deemed it best not to smoke. "We call the base first, let them know where we are staying. That way if something else occurs, they can let the Administrator know. I'm sure we will be seeing Miss Pauling if that comes to pass."

Whether Miss Pauling would be helping them or putting them out of their misery was anybody's guess. But it was a sound plan. If the boys back in the badlands had heard anything else, this would be a good time to check. In the event that Scout and Sniper had dodged whatever'd got the drop on them, they'd call the base first.

"So," Scout's Ma broke the silence, "you got my boy your Scout, you two, a Doc, somethin' called a Pyro, a Heavy Weapons guy, Demolitions, an Army vet, and a Sniper, right?"

Engie nodded. "More or less, yes."

"Mhmm." Scout's Ma seemed to be thinking. "And I heard plenty about that Pauling gal. She sounds nice."

There was no wondering where she'd heard that from. It stood to reason Scout would call home about his love life- or lack thereof.

"What I guess I'm gettin' at is, are you boys just gonna call me 'Ms. Scout's Ma' or do I get one of them codenames too?"

Engie chuckled, but the more he thought about it, the better idea it seemed. The less they and the general public knew about Scout, the better. The same protections ought to extend to his mother. After all, she was a _big_ part of Scout's life and a big danger to it if the right connections were exposed.

"That ain't a half-bad idea, ma'am. Don't reckon I know what it would be, but I'm sure we can come up with somethin' nice."

"I don't want 'somethin' nice', Tex," she said with a grin, "I want somethin' _good._ Somethin' that'll make whoever took my boy think twice about doin' it again, y'know what I'm sayin'?"

He knew. Still, it was a matter of putting the thing together. "How 'bout we think on it? If'n we have to introduce you to the fellas, it won't be for a while yet."

Spy hadn't said a word, but his silence wasn't a 'no' either. They'd think on it, even if it were just the two of them.


	5. Chapter 5

"This looks like a fine American vehicle!"

In was neither 'fine' nor 'American', but Medic's VW was going to have to do. He planned to sedate Pyro and stuff the little lunatic in the trunk ("After all, he is the smallest besides the Engineer, yes?") while he, Demo, and Solider took turns driving. Of course, the car took prepping and Solider took finding. Demo hadn't been able to locate him until he tried ringing the bell for lunch. Then he had to, well, _make lunch._

"I'll drive first. We need to make it to Dallas in good time. Who knows what's goin' on over there."

"Negatory, Private. I will operate this motor vehicle until the state line, at which time we will need to infiltrate on foot! Cows can smell gasoline, and will not hesitate to rip your spine out and beat you to death with it while your loved ones watch on in horror."

Medic chose this moment to appear from the kitchen door. "Ah, good, you have not left without me. Solider, did you remember to pack your shovel?"

"Stars and Stripes, maggot! The brain-whisk is affecting me, even at this range. We will have to prepare an ironclad defense if we are going to take those cows on hand-to-hand. My shovel is made of iron!" Soldier hopped down from the roof of the VW and sprinted inside. "It is also made of wood!"

Once he was out of earshot, Medic offered up two plastic bottles. Demo took them, confused. "Aye, thanks, Doc..."

"Oh, you will be thanking me more in half an hour. Give Solider the red bottle, and be prepared to take the wheel when the sleeping drug takes effect." Medic held up a finger to punctuate his statement. "You will have to be quick! One moment he will be awake and the next, there will be no conscious impulses to get his foot off the pedals!"

Demo's eye widened and he took another look at the bottle. "And why can’t you do it?"

“I’ve already sedated Pyro and I will be unconscious myself within minutes. It would be foolish to try and stomach Soldier’s driving, yes?” His grin was borderline maniacal. “As soon as it wears off, I will drive. How does that sound?”

Soldier chose this moment to come barging back in, carrying Pyro bridal-style. "Get in the car, maggots! We are going to take over Texas in the name of Freedom and America!"

Medic made a shooing motion toward the passenger seat while he climbed into the back. "Go on." Intently, he whispered. "Half an hour. Good luck, or we’re all dead."

With that, Demo had no choice but to get into the car and hope the dashboard clock ran accurately. He found out that Solider did indeed know how to drive. He also found out why no one ever let him.

Oh, he _hated it_ when Medic was in charge.

* * *

 

Spy turned his nose up at near about every motel in the greater Dallas area, but there was a newer little joint he was willing to try.

"Fewer people will 'ave been murdered here." Was all the comment he gave. Engie didn't know how to take that.

"I'll book the rooms." Scout's Ma offered. "No offense, boys, but you two stick out like a couple of sore thumbs."

"And you, the single Boston lady traveling with the two of these sore thumbs are so much less conspicuous?" Spy acted like he took offense. After all, it was his business to come and go stealthily. But then again, this was a hotel not the airport. He didn't exactly blend in.

"Boston?" Scout's Ma asked, suddenly without a trace of an accent. "This lady's from Missouri, that good-ol' accentless Midwest." She grinned before switching to a whisper. "HR folks swallow that crap like you wouldn't believe. I worked in a call center for three years an' everybody thought I'd just moved to town."

The two mercenaries looked at her, awestruck.

"What? I gotta take care of eight boys don't I? A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Now step aside gents, and watch a lady work."

Had he fewer manners, the Engineer might've let off a low whistle. That was mighty impressive. Then again, anybody who could've kept eight boys as rowdy as Scout alive must be sharp as a tack.

"It is astonishing, that her son would be as dumb as a rock." Spy interjected. " _C'est la vie,_ perhaps he is in more than one way the runt of the litter."

Engie nudged him. "Don't you let her here you talkin' like that. It'll make for a mighty frosty ride when we go for the van."

" _C'est vrai."_

It wasn't five minutes later that she came back out with two key rings and a smug look. "What did I tell you? Piece of cake."

"Truly, you are a marvel, _ma belle_." And Spy looked like he meant it. Engie started making for the bed of the truck.

"What floor? And do they have the phones set up or are we looking for a payphone first?" He took out his and the lady's suitcases. Spy could go it alone.

She held up the key rings. "Second floor, phones in, and apparently this ain't tourist season or nothin'. Most of the place ain't booked, but it's clean. I told 'em I was 'ere for my son's wedding and I got the whole guidebook. Apparently, there's a great Mexican food place on the corner, and the little conference room is available for the reception, _or something._ "

"So, they _aren't_ busy. Perfect." Spy took his own briefcase without paying Engineer any mind. "I have a few calls to make."

That sure sounded like Spy for 'leave me alone while I work'. Engie knew how the fella was when he got a bee in his bonnet about something. Nobody'd go near the smoking room unless they were stupid or desperate. Or Pyro, who really liked the fireplace.

Engie headed off the inevitable dismissal. "Why don't we go pick up Sniper's van and bring it back here? That way, we'll have two cars if'n we need to be in two places at once?"

"Excellent." Spy said as if he hadn’t really listened.

They got to the second floor, and Spy made his way to 203 and barged right in. Engie set the suitcases in the hall between 203 and 204.

"Now, ma'am, I reckon-"

"You reckon right, pal. You an' Frenchie got that one. This here's mine." She took her suitcase and shuffled into 204.

Engie peered through the doorway of 203. Spy had smoked up the room like he was halfway through a pack. There was a bed and a foldout sofa. Engie had a feeling he knew which one was his. He sighed and set his suitcase down next to the couch.

"You better be here when we get pack. They only gave us one set of keys."

Spy didn't respond, only spun the dial on the phone. Engineer adjusted his glove and walked out. Scout's Ma was waiting for him in the hall.

"One of his moods?"

"Ain't it just."

She shook her head sympathetically. "Ain't seen him in years and he's just the same. But," she stopped and took Engie's hand, "I'm so glad you two came all this way. Nothin' scares a mother more than not knowin' where her kiddos are, or what's happened to 'em."

Engie smiled back at her, hoping to ease that worry some. It wouldn't go away until they found Scout, he knew, but he'd do what he could. "We'll find them, ma'am. I'm hardly one to talk, but we're pretty good at what we do. I reckon it's not another day 'fore we got eyes on those boys. And if Spy's calling the base, we'll have reinforcements here within the day."

She squeezed his hand quickly before letting go. "You guys are alright, even if you kill each other in the desert all day." She froze. "Aw, geez."

* * *

 

They set back out on 114 towards the old Sunoco station. Engie figured he could hotwire Sniper's van and they could be back in time for lunch. Maybe at that Mexican food place the hotel clerk mentioned. He could go for a quesadilla. They weren't much for cooking at the base, though they did try. Close as they got was when everyone pitched in for a potluck. At least some of that turned out edible.

Scout's Ma seemed grateful for the window seat at last. Engie had a feeling she didn't much like the middle, but then again, it could just be Spy's attitude. That, and _nobody_ liked the middle.

"So, you known Spy a long time?"

"Yep. How'd you lose that hand?"

"...Fair enough."

There were, apparently, subjects that were off limits. Engie could take a hint as well as the next guy, more so if the next guy was Scout. But the highway noise was about to drive him up the wall. They needed to start talking or break out Dean Martin.

It was actually Scout's Ma that tried again first. "Hate to be such a _mom_ 'bout this, but is Jeremy doin' well? Scout, I mean, is he alright? A mother's always worried 'bout her kids, y'know? 'Specially when there's, y'know, murder involved an' all."

It was almost a tactful way of putting it, but mercenaries didn't tend to shy away from the 'm' word. "He's doin' fine, ma'am, I promise. I reckon he likes it well enough. Outdoors work, lot of activity, and exciting if you'll pardon my saying so."

She actually laughed. "No, no, that's what I wanted to hear. Is it sad that the only reason I don't care that he's shootin' guys all day is that it ain't permanent? 'S almost like a game that way, ain't it? Corporate espionage, but like a game."

Engie chuckled back. "Well, does sound pretty tame when you put it that way. We're a competitive bunch, so I reckon it sounds like a regular party. Ain't always fun, not when we're the ones gettin' stolen from or blown up, but it sure does pay good. And you get a chance to do things you can't do back home, like vault off some battlements with a bat in one hand and an energy drink in the other."

"He told me he quit drinkin' those!"

"You didn't hear it from me."

They settled back into a happier silence. Engie couldn't help but like Scout's Ma. She was a real lady, but not one to shy away from off-color conversation. Like Scout, in a way, but infinitely more mature. It was funny chatting with the woman who raised such a child. Scout talked a lot of talk, but he had a great work ethic and could be a team player when he put his mind to it. But what a family that had to have been!

"I dunno 'bout you, Tex, but I'm gettin' hungry over here." She started fiddling with the window crank. "Know a good place to eat?"

Engie looked to his left, spotted that great big _beautiful_ CNB block, and grinned. "Mind if we make a detour?"

//\\\

"This is wild, Tex! I didn't know you guys actually, y'know, _did_ places like this."

The wood-planked walls gave the restaurant a ranch house feel, with the trim and rails at the entryway matching just the way they ought. Folks were wearing boots and denim, giving it an atmosphere that could've been plucked out of a stereotypical silver-screen western. The lady wanted breakfast, so there was really only one place to go.

"Used to come up here when I'd detour from New Mexico. It's a little far outta my way, but I bet you've never had a good ol' southern style breakfast before?"

She shook her head. "No, but I'm ready for one! Just one question: what the heck are 'grits' and you think I oughta have them or the... hash browns?"

Engie smiled widely into his menu. He usually got something off the 'classic' menu, but today was a special occasion. He was getting to share a piece of the South with a lovely lady.

"Either one'll do you fine. Guess it depends on what you're hungry for. I'm getting these 'world famous' German-style pancakes. It's a good idea to start off with a hearty breakfast. With the day we're bound to have, I reckon it's necessary."

"An' if Frenchie gets upset that we took so long, we can always describe the French toast in mouth-watering detail."

Engie didn't know if that would get under Spy's skin at all, but he laughed. It was funny! Here he was, joking and laughing with Scout's mother of all people, at a pancake house on the opposite side of Fort Worth than where they ought to be. It was almost like there wasn't anything more going on here than a friendly breakfast.

Maybe that was part of it. Maybe Scout's Ma knew there was nothing to be done but wait for Spy to finish his business. The worry had to be eating at her something fierce. Who wouldn't be a nervous wreck if their kid suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, missing-presumed-kidnapped? He was bound and determined to make this as easy as was possible for her.

"I might save him a biscuit. 'Course, you can't get much better than these." The waitress came by for their drink orders, and Engie was unsurprised to learn Scout's mother took her coffee sweet. He liked a little cream and sugar in his, but not nearly so much as the little lady.

"What?" She sipped at her mug. "I need the kick but I hate the taste. What's a gal to do?"

"Can't argue with that." Engie stirred a sugar packet in his own coffee. "We're sweet tea people down here, but tea can't cut it when you're up after three fixin' something that ain't oughta be broke."

She raised her mug. "T' necessary evils."

He clinked his glass with hers. "I'll drink to that." It felt good to have something hot, even though the mercury was already rising outdoors. Just a little something to wake him up after a rough night of driving. "I did forget to ask, can you drive a camper van?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Never driven anything bigger than a yellow cab, and that was in an emergency. I ain't no cabbie." She studied her coffee. "But I can drive stick."

Engie considered the offer, and what it meant. "Ma'am, I mean no offense but I trust very few people behind the wheel of my truck… But desperate times call for desperate measures."

"I'll have to scoot the seat back." She waggled her eyebrows. "Got longer legs than you, Tex."

He snorted. "And I'll likely have to scoot Sniper's seat up. He's built like Spy only taller. A regular beanpole of a man, but a crack shot. And on second thought, that van might not be in fit condition for a lady. Stretch pretty much lives outta that thing." It also occurred to him that jarate might be the _least_ shocking thing inside. Knowing Mundy, there could be almost anything in there.

Once they ordered, the food was surprisingly quick in arriving. Scout's Ma figured "what the hey" and ordered the grits. Engie's opinion of the woman went up as she dug into the breakfast with gusto.

"So this is my southern-style breakfast!" She drizzled syrup on her pancakes in a dainty way, making Engie feel much like an uncultured oaf in comparison. "If there's only one thing you people do right down here, it's food. Makes a gal wanna retire to Texas instead of Florida."

Engie made flawless use of his napkin, silverware, and table manners. He was mighty rusty on etiquette livin' out in the sticks with eight other men, and he had a good impression to make. With as much care as one ought to give a turkey at Thanksgiving dinner, he carved his pancakes into slices and ate at a moderate pace.

"We tend to have a lot more time on our hands. I don't mean to say we do less, but there's a lot less _city_ down 'round here. Makes time go a little slower if you know what I mean. Gives you a chance to really enjoy life, by my reckoning." It was different than the pacing in New Mexico, sure. They both had horizon-to-horizon skies, but it was different. Everything from the dirt to the air to the wind to the rain was different. In Engie's heart, there was no place like Texas.

"It shows." She scooped another bite of pancake into her mouth. "Jeremy would love this." Her hand clenched the fork tightly, and she took a quick swig of coffee. Oh, she was still plenty worried about her boy.

"How fast can you down those flapjacks, Tex?"

Engie smiled grimly. "I'll make quick work of 'em, don't you worry."


	6. Chapter 6

He did not like calling in so many debts at once. It was prudent to keep your debtors close, but this qualified as a special circumstance. Spy didn't like changes in his routine, in his methods, and this was no exception.

Everything had been arranged, of course. Spy was a professional. By noon, he had phoned in every contact within a two-hundred mile radius, gave the address of their hotel to Medic, confirmed the time of Heavy's flight, determined which of the other rooms at the hotel were occupied, and made reservations for dinner. Dinner for two. The laborer could go hunt down and kill his own dinner for all Spy cared. This was his home state after all.

Now, the tricky part. He had swindled a few magazines and catalogs out of the young woman at the front desk with his 'charmin' accent'. He knew the look he needed to go for to pull this off. Ordering the suit would be no trouble, and he would not balk at the lack of precise tailoring for such a rush.

 That would be easy. The hard part would be guessing the size of his female companion. If he ordered the dress in a size too large, it would look slightly off. If he ordered a size too small, he would be drawn and quartered. Spy tried to solve this problem by picking the lock on room 204 and examining the lady's dresses. Scout's mother had exquisite taste, and her son's devotion allowed her to show it. As annoying as the brat was, Scout loved his mother. He would do anything for her, just as she was willing to do anything for him.

Spy ordered the dress. Spy prayed.

He spent a while smoking in the stairwell. The laborer would undoubtedly complain about the state of the room, and the open window plus a change of scenery was worth staving off that annoyance. Spy checked his watch again. The order would be shipped by 2 o'clock, and hand-delivered by the manager since Spy had offered to pay cash. Perhaps there would be time for a quiet lunch.

He put out his cigarette on the railing and headed back upstairs. No sooner had he shut the door than he heard the first floor entrance open. Heavy boots and heels. They were back.

Spy lunged for the door of 203, slammed the window, lit a fresh cigarette, and deposited his old one in the ashtray as if it had been there a while. He dropped into the room's chair just as Engineer knocked on the door.

"It is open, laborer."

The knob turned and Scout's mother scowled at him. "That's no way to talk to Tex, Frenchie. 'E's a gentleman, treated me to breakfast and all."

She missed that gentleman's smug grin as he made his way into the room as well. "You get in contact with anybody back at the base?"

" _Oui._ " Spy pondered his lit cigarette casually. "Heavy's flight arrives at 9:45, gate B-16. You will pick him up. _Ma chérie,_  we have a dinner reservation."

The Engineer stiffened, and Scout's mother did not look happy. "Oh please," he continued, "It is with a _contact_. This man owes me a favor, and you, _ma petite_ , will not make plain the connection to my employer. Think of it, Engineer, this is your chance to be rid of me for the evening."

His companions looked less offended. Scout's mother pursed her lips. "What kinda dinner is this? I'm wearing about the fanciest dress I packed."

"I am aware." Spy replied. "So I have ordered something for the occasion. It will arrive in a few hours."

Now, the Engineer had questions. "Who's this contact of yours, Slim? And if'n you can't give me that, maybe 'what's he gonna tell you' might be a better place to start."

Spy adjusted his perch on the chair. "He is an old client. I provided my services as a mercenary, and even went beyond my contract and made certain evidence against his operation disappear. He is going to tell me which of Sniper's living former employers is in town. I have kept a list."

"A list of all Sniper's ex-bosses."

"But of course."

"Why?"

Spy studied the Engineer with genuine puzzlement. "You do not keep track of your teammates' activities? I would like to know if we are about to be overrun by the bushman's ex-girlfriend's brother's biker gang out for revenge. Or the former English politician who will be let out of prison on parole in July."

Engineer paused, opened his mouth, and shut it again. "Fair enough."

Scout's mother seemed to be the only one still up in the air about the plan. "You ordered a dress? I know the French are snappy dressers but hon-"

"Do not worry yourself. I am a man of many talents. The evening will go according to plan, and by the end of the night, we will have the knowledge and the necessary reinforcements to reunite you with your son once again."

Everything was running smoothly. The Engineer was satisfied, and that was overcoming an obstacle in itself.

"So," Spy rested his cigarette in the ashtray, "who is ready for lunch?"

//\\\

"I don't know about you, but I think 'Starlet' has a mighty nice ring to it." The Engineer took another tortilla from the warmer. They had been able to talk Spy into getting Mexican food after all. On top of that, the desk clerk was right. It was delicious.

"Nonsense." Spy had ordered enchiladas. "She needs something with more _allure_. Something mysterious. Since we are bothering with this 'code name' nonsense, it should be something fitting- _laborer._ "

Engineer was about a second away from flicking his rice across the table in a manner most undignified. But that would only feed Spy's sense of superiority. He held his fork where it was.

"I am in favor of _Soubrette_. A classical, supporting lady of intrigue. It is much more suitable."

Scout's Ma didn't know about 'Soubrette', but 'Starlet' didn't seem right either. It was actually Frenchie who'd come up with the concept, since she was to be doing so much playacting. They'd outlined plans for dinner while the boys got after some chips and salsa. She and Spy would arrive at the dinner- more of a night lounge, really if they were being specific- and wine and dine the info out of this old contact.

It didn't look like much work on the surface, but Frenchie had made it clear what was up. She would be in charge of making this arrangement seem innocent. Well, as innocent as a pair of criminals meeting up late at night could be. She was to make it look like a business inquiry, not a hunt. This would be accomplished by a myriad of subtle, insignificant seeming things that they would go over in more detail later. She thought she'd got the gist, though.

"They're gonna be real suspicious of you, if you're tellin' me the last time you saw these guys was in Florida fifteen years ago an' all the sudden you just _appear_." She motioned her slice of quesadilla in his direction. "What I _really_ gotta do is make it look like you've _slipped._ "

" _Excuse moi?_ " Spy seemed taken aback. "You think that a _less_ credible professional reputation will do us any favors?"

She scrunched her nose at him. "Yeah, yeah I do. 'Cause what's more transparent than a down-on-'is-luck merc fishin' for any old friend he can find? Sure, you sound smooth on the phone, but when you get there in person, you're desperate. You wanna know what gangs are in town, who's hiring." She gave him a toothy grin. "You got a gal on your arm and a whole lotta glitter, but you pull up to the joint in a red pickup with Tex 'ere as your chauffeur."

Spy blinked. Engineer didn't notice the beans falling out of his burrito. She rolled her eyes. _Boys._

"You call me the Spotlight, cause once I'm pointed their way, they won't be able to see anything else until it's too late."

This time, Engie did whistle. "Ma'am, that's downright fright'nin'. If you ever get a call from a lady at Builder's League United, for my sake, don't take the offer."

" _D'accord."_ Spy was looking at her with an expression of awe and a _hint_  of something else. "The Spotlight it is then. I must say I am impressed."

She took a chip from the basket and nabbed a scoop of salsa. "What can I say? I can do a lotta things when properly motivated."

Engineer politely directed his blush into the Spanish rice. Spy's smile widened. "Excellent. Then we 'ave a plan. Dinner is at 9, cocktails no later than 10 o'clock, and if I know Demetrio, garnished with poison."

She choked on her tortilla chip. Coughing, she gave Spy a wide-eyed look. "He's gonna - _hck_ \- _what_ with the _what?"_

Spy shook his head, still in a very good mood. "We have a lot of planning to do yet."

* * *

 

He kicked the Engineer out of his room-it was _his_ , and he was generously sharing- so he could make sure the suit fit. It was charcoal gray, with velvet lapels and trim. A very nice fitting suit, surprisingly. Spy unlocked his briefcase for the finishing touch. He hadn't always been the RED Spy. No, there were other faces he had worn, once, and now he was drawing them back into the light.

Of the dozen balaclavas nestled in the briefcase, he chose the one closest to the color of his suit.

Spy threw open the door to his room, hoping to startle the Engineer with his sudden appearance. The hallway was empty. But, there was a sound. Spy closed his eyes to listen. There were voices, one deep and soft, the other feminine with a _Boston accent merde alors they were both in 204._

Recreating his exit on the second door, Spy barged in to find out _just what_ the Engineer thought he was doing in a _lady's room_. His _petite_ shrieked, and the laborer peered out from behind her.

"Dag _nabbit_ what're you goin' and doin' that for, Spy? I was bein' awfully careful till _you_ made me jump."

Spy noticed the safety pins adorning the Engineer's sleeve, and the needle in his hand.

"Yeah, Frenchie!” She rubbed at a spot on her hip, likely a _recent_ injury. “Ain't'cha ever heard of knocking? I'm half dressed here!"

She was very much dressed, but it was obvious she was getting a hand in some alterations. The burning question was: _why did she ask him?_

"Forgive me." He said, his fists still clenched. "But when you were not in the hall where you were supposed to wait-"

"Our Spotlight is under-equipped, Slim. There ain't nowhere in the dress for weapons or supplies. Heck, it ain't even got pockets. What kind of designer don't make room for pockets? It's clothing! I'd reckon that's a given!"

Their Spotlight rolled her eyes. "You get used to it. An' stop lookin' like he kicked your puppy, Frenchie, Tex has a _degree_ in this."

Spy scoffed. "Home Economics?"

"Textile Engineering. A PhD, actually, but that's not important." Engineer managed a causal delivery, despite the fact that he was gloating. "There's more to fabric than tailoring, and more applications than flame-resistant masks, Slim." Apparently, Spy had forgotten that favor. "Who you think does the patchwork on our heavy-duty gear?"

"Medic."

"Medic couldn't sew a straight line or an even hem if you held a gun to his head. Heck, at that point he might stitch crooked out of spite. No, we're all very thankful the man uses a medi-gun instead of the old fashioned needles and sutures."

It occurred to Spy that they might be _very_ lucky indeed. "And so _you_ are making these alterations?"

"Yep." The more he watched, the more he could see that the laborer had eyes only for the dress. Spotlight was completely at ease, studying the pattern of the rhinestones on her skirt. She grinned at him.

"Look at you, gettin' this glitzy thing! Where'd you even find this, a prom catalog?"

Spy lied through his teeth. "One of the desk clerk's magazines. There was an ad next to some trite department store piece about one of the city's only fine tailors. They had a few premades available, and I chose the one of highest quality." Though, it was a convincing lie. She looked dazzling, the dim light of the room's lamps washed over the seafoam green fabric and danced in the gems on her dress. The one bright light the Engineer had rigged to sew by gave her a radiant appearance. 'Spotlight' was right. For a moment, Spy could not see anything else.

She was watching Engineer work. He'd slipped his goggles up on his head and the tip of his tongue poked between his lips in concentration. "I'm mighty glad Spy ordered this a size too big, else you'd have not a lot to work with."

"And there's just enough room that I can wear somethin' under this skirt to boot. Much smaller and you'd have to duct tape me in it!"

Engineer chuckled. "Still might have to sew you in, though. This zipper doesn't have a proper clasp at the top. Now, if'n I'd brought my toolbox we could have that fixed right up, but we'll just have to make due."

Spy caught her eye and she winked at him. After all these years he was still uncertain as to whether or not she could read minds. He straightened his velvet bow tie and perched on the corner of the bed. "We have a few things to go over before dinner."

"The poison thing."

"Yes..." She seemed very concerned about that. "I will get to the _poison thing_ in a moment. First of all, we must arrange a pickup schedule. L- _Engineer_ , after you retrieve Heavy, you will wait for us at the corner of Scooter Avenue and Toler Drive. I consulted a roadmap, and this is likely the last place anyone inside will look for our ride. It is two miles from the club. We will take a cab to you, rendezvous, and return here."

The Engineer was so absorbed in making a makeshift pocket out of pieces of sliced pillowcase that he just nodded. "I'll find a road atlas." He commented through clenched teeth and a couple of sewing pins. "Ma'am, would you lift your right arm just a little- there we go. Hold tight now."

Spy looked back to the shimmering Spotlight. Her hair and makeup were as they had been this morning- she would likely make adjustments after the dress was finished- but she was still a _vision._ It seemed as if she looked lovely in anything, from this glorified prom dress to the lovely coral-red present from her son, to the waitress' uniform she'd been wearing when he'd first laid eyes on her. She had captivated him immediately with her wit and accolades- single mother, ex-riveter... the list went on to include several _quasi-legal_ feats that had impressed even the Spy. Ironic that she should only now be adding 'mercenary' to the list.

"Dinner is at 9." Spy continued after a moment. "It is only a dinner in the loosest of terms. There will be drinks, of course, and our host will drink first from a poisoned bottle, though he will not expect us to know this. He will have had the antidote ahead of time, and if he feels there is a bargain to be struck, alert his unsuspecting victims of the danger. He has a fondness for the dramatic. The champagne usually contains the antidote and is served last."

Both of his companions had stopped to stare at him.

"Just what kinda friends you makin' out in the world, Slim?" Engineer said through his pins.

"Never mind." Spy rubbed at his temple. "Do not drink anything he does. Stick to the wine, or water, as he does not usually poison simple refreshments. I would advise you to let me do the talking. Though I have absolute faith in you, _ma belle_ , he is a dangerous and clever man."

Engineer threaded a needle with a _very_ close match to the dress' fabric and Spy wondered where on earth _that_ kit had come from, if his toolbox was back at the base. Spotlight waved her hand at him in a go-on motion.

"So." He steepled his fingers at his chin. "Here is what we will do."


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, I very much wish to go to New Braunfels." Medic studied the road map lazily as they sped along the dusty highway. "It is not far out of the way."

"It's about a whole...six hours, just from 'ere." Demo retorted. It was getting well on in the afternoon, and soon, tranquilized or not, Medic would have to take the wheel. "How 'bout you can go after we find Scout and Sniper? Take your car, while the rest of us pack it home in the van?"

"Hmm." Medic sighed as he looked out the window. He held his tranqs about as well as his booze, Demo noticed: not particularly well. The man was no lightweight, but Demo was sore anxious to get to Dallas before sundown if he could. "I hope the barbeque is as good as everyone says. There is quite the German population in Texas, and I am told the sausage is passable."

"Hot dogs at the State Fair? Fried everything? I'd keep an eye on the cuisine, mate." Demo had heard- at length- the various different ways things could be prepared when one lost all sanity and lit a grill in the Lone Star State. Though, Engie could barbeque like a master, Demo had his reservations.

Medic made a noise like he was reminiscing as well. "Fried cotton candy might be interesting. I am sure Pyro would be over the moon. When is the State Fair in session?"

"Not now, I don't reckon. Engie was excited about it a while back, but I don't think it lasts too long."

"Probably for the best. All of these Texans would be dead if they consumed fried food at such a rate for an extended period of time, yes?"

It stood to reason. And even if the Doc was suddenly focused on food, it made better conversation than having all three unconscious in the car. Pyro had appropriated Soldier's legs for pillows some point after Demo had swapped Medic into the passenger seat. It occurred to him that the Doc might've knocked himself out for a painless death if Soldier's driving did in fact kill them. They could also die of the heat, a non-Soldier induced crash, or a cattle attack. In the great and terrible land of Texas, any of these things seemed possible.

"Oh," Medic went on, starting to loosen his tie, "and here I was thinking the New Mexico heat was bad. What is this? It is not _warmer_ here than the true desert? They have grass in Texas, even though it is brown."

Demo felt a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. "Humidity. Gets a little wetter out this way. Ought to get not much cooler 'n this, even at night."

Medic made a strangled noise. "Oh, and you are a meteorologist as well?"

"Got t'be. Chemicals react differently in different environments, y'ken." And it always helped to know just how the weather behaved in a place you may or may not be blowing things up. "Though, there is a cold front sweepin' through tomorrow. They're expectin' rain, maybe a good thunderstorm."

"It will be a relief." Medic was fanning himself with the folded up map. "I should be glad of even a thunderstorm after this."

* * *

 

"I don't know a lot about that medical stuff, but I know when you got a concussion you're supposed to stay _awake."_ He maneuvered his elbow to nudge Sniper. "And with a face as messed up as yours, you gotta have a concussion, man."

It was a little bit... Scout wasn't scared, first off, he was just... He was concerned. Sniper was like, basically their ticket out of there alive, so he couldn't die right? This whole thing depended on how good he was at acting. And acting needed you to not be in a coma to work. Unless you were playing a dead person, but then any faker who could hold their breath a minute could do that, so why get somebody in a coma? Didn't make any sense.

Sniper was slumped down against Scout's back, held up by the ropes and the kid's willpower thus far. They'd been left in here without food or water for more than twelve hours by Sniper's reckoning. It could be afternoon or evening for all they knew. No way to tell underground. At least he was just beat up, and not gutted or bleeding all over the place.

"So, you think Demo and Engie made it to Texas or what?" Scout piped up again. He was determined to keep Sniper conscious by conversation alone.

Sniper grunted. "Knowing Truckie, he probably floored it all the way. If he took the same road as we did in, he might've found the van, if Louie's gang didn't take it with. Then again, 's too low on petrol to get very far. Bet they left it at the pump."

"That's jus' lazy." Scout interjected. "But good for us if they did."

"Yep." Sniper was tired, nearly too tired to sit up, but he knew he had to. As long as he was awake, Louie would go for him before he went after Scout. The kid had a much better chance of legging it too, when the time came. It was his job to be fast and dodge. He might make it.

It wasn't a long silence, but it seemed to unnerve Scout. "You still awake back there, man?"

"Yep."

"Oh, OK. Good. Just don't want you t'die back there and I'd never know 'cause you're so quiet. Then, I'd be tied to a dead body and that's just too weird. No offense, but that'd probably be the grossest thing ever. You'd get all cold 'n stuff, and then the rats would come after ya, and I'd have to fight off rats and keep from vomiting 'cause I'm still touching your gross, dead body."

Sniper sighed. "Better than bein' tied to _your_ gross, dead body."

"Jus' what's that supposed to- Oh, I get it. You'd rather be dead than tied to a dead person." Scout mulled this over. "'S fair. But that all depends on like, 'Am I dyin' later or do I get untied from this body eventually'? I'm thinking I could like, stand it for a little bit. Not for the rats, though, they'd have to kill me then too, y'know?"

Sniper made a noncommittal noise. Scout talking about nothing was better than Scout peppering him with questions. Both ways, the kid felt like he was helping, but one was easier to tune out.

"I never liked rats, man. We used to live in this one apartment, just for a little while see, where there was rats and roaches all up in the building. The neighbor’s cat used to take care of the roaches until it got into some rat poison and fell out the window. Creepiest thing. Then we all had t'kill the roaches ourselves. Ma would do it, see, but she didn't wanna touch 'em ever, so we all stepped up and killed 'em for her. Heh, we had a tally on an old cereal box markin' who'd killed the most. One of my older brothers, see, he built this trap kinda thing and caught tons of 'em, but I was winnin' for a long time 'cause I was fast enough to whack the little chuckleheads with a newspaper."

Shaking himself out of the doze he'd nearly fallen victim to, Sniper pretended like he'd been listening. "Sounds fun, mate."

"Nah, it was horrible. They chewed right through the bread bags. But Ma managed to find a better place closer to her work after a bit. It wasn't very big 'n all, but no roaches or rats. They paid her better too, but sometimes she'd come home talkin' funny, like when you spend too long 'round Engie and start sayin' 'y'all' and stuff."

"Texas boyfriend?"

"No." Scout fired back. "Definitely for work, and besides, it only happened once in a while and on weekdays. If she was goin' out it was Friday or Saturday, and she always came back home before any of the bars closed. She was... always thinkin' of us kids first."

Scout got uncharacteristically quiet for a while. Sniper wondered if he was alright when he spoke again. "I bet she... She probably knows something bad happened. See, she knows I'd call no matter what. Crap, I bet she thinks we're dead on the roadside somewhere out in the sticks."

Sniper wasn't sure what to say, if anything. He didn't really know Scout's mother, besides a few stories and some.... besides a few stories.

"My mum's probably not worried, yet. I know she will be, if we're out here much longer. Dad doesn't- We don't get along so well, but Mum'll worry after a bit. Y'know how it is."

"Yeah." Scout said. "Got any brothers or something?"

"A sister. She's younger 'n me, so she got the benefit of the doubt an' all. Can't do much wrong in Mum's eyes, bein' the baby."

"I know how that is. I got seven older brothers. I know they were mad at some of the stuff I got away with but, wasn't my fault."

"Yeah." Sniper sniffed. His nose itched. "Weren't irritated at _her_ growin' up, just th' fact that Mum let her stay out late on a date or two, but I always had to be back by ten. Huh. Bunch'a girl's dads thought I was a real 'upstandin' young man' when really I had this killer curfew."

Scout snorted. "No way. Aw, man, Ma let us stay out late as long as she knew exactly where we was gonna be at and for how long. If we was anywhere else, we'd be dead, but if she called Jessie's house and his ma picked up and said we were both playin' ball, it'd be good. It's when you aren't... where you say you are that gets you in trouble." Scout paused. "We didn't get off track and we're still in the murder hole, man."

"That's just life, mate. Stayin' on the road doesn't stop somebody from runnin' you off it."

"Ain't that the truth." Scout sighed and wished they were in a more comfortable spot. This sucked. "Y'know what would be great?"

"Not bein' here?"

"Other than that." Scout rolled his eyes. "If we could get to the wall. That way, if you pass out an' there's nothin' I can do about it, we don't both fall over."

Sniper bit back his retort. That was a good idea, come to think of it. He was feeling alright for the time being, but that might not last forever. And if Scout tipped them over proper, that might wake him up in any case. 

"We should go for it. Get ready, and we'll push off the ground on three."

"On three, or on 'one, two, three, go'? I made that mistake before, and brother-"

"On three." Sniper cut him off, more gently. "We'll make for the closest wall."

"Aight. Count us off, man."

Sniper took a deep breath and prepared himself for all this moving. "One, two, _three_." They both had their heels wedged in the dirt, getting enough traction to push off the dirt floor. Once they were upright, Sniper nearly fell over again. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" Scout cheered. "Would y'look at us?" He could feel Sniper lurch at his back and changed his tune. "Let's get over there before you drop dead." 

They managed to coordinate their way to the wall. Scout eased them both to the floor, slipping a bit as Sniper dropped at the end. At least there was a wall to lean on. In the silence, Scout could hear the both of them breathing. Sniper sounded like crap. 

"You still good back there?" He could feel the nodding, but it didn't sound like Sniper had the energy to talk anymore. That was OK, though. Scout had this talking thing covered. 

"Great. Y'know, this is _exactly_  like the time Davy an' I got stuck in a storm drain..."


	8. Chapter 8

The Spotlight had her skirts bunched all the way up in her lap. The effort was made to give the boys some room to sit, but with so much tulle crowding the cabin, Engineer had to make adjustments just to shift gears. 

"Pardon- _ope_ \- got the end caught on the key ring." This and other such snags reminded her why she never wore anything poofy. It was just too much of a hassle. Spy was taking it bravely. He hadn't made a comment about the cramped conditions, only that Engineer ought to drive fast so they could make it somewhat on time. 

She'd done her makeup as best as she could under the circumstances. Of course she'd brought her kit, but it was difficult to apply eye shadow with those boys crowding the bathroom door to watch. What fascinated them about makeup so much, she'd never know. Eventually, she kicked them out altogether and shut the door so she could have a moment's peace. It had been worth listening to them argue through the door when she threw it open for the big reveal. 

Tex had gone all pink, which was _adorable._ He was the first to offer up a compliment. It was flustered, but exceedingly polite. She had him figured out- all Southern manners but very little time around women in the last few years. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; even though it was plain he didn't have any intentions towards her. It was sweet. 

Frenchie on the other hand, was a touch harder to read. Not totally opaque, though. He was clear in a few of the right places, and she had enough to fill in the blanks. For all his pomp and show, he was worried about Jeremy and the Sniper guy. He had been a consummate professional, and she was glad for it, but it was sure fun to watch twenty years slide off his face when she walked through the door. For just a second, he was the same man she'd met in Boston. He was looking like he had the world at his fingertips, cocky, and full of enthusiasm. This Spy character was more subdued, more experienced, but there was still plenty of Frenchie just under the surface. 

Now, she was psyching herself up to go for drinks with a known poisoner. Frenchie must've noticed, because his 'offhand' comments were about as subtle as a gun. 

"If worse comes to worse, I have the antidotes for his favorites. Additionally, if Heavy's flight is delayed, I prepared cash for a longer cab ride."

"I'll do my best to be here on time, Spy. I think it would be a good idea to take the cab to the corner regardless, and if my truck ain't there, then you know to meet me back at the hotel." He navigated easily through the Friday night traffic. Of all the mercs Frenchie could've picked to drive, she was glad he'd picked this one. 

"Very well." Spy fiddled with his cigarette case. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was nervous. "If there is a change of plans, I trust we all know the hotel extension?"

"Yep."

"'Course we do."

"Excellent." Spy tried to shift further into the door to accommodate the lady and the dress. This was proving to be an interesting car ride to say the least. "I suggest you drop off Heavy at the hotel. I will give you my key once we part ways."

"No offense to the big guy, but he wouldn't fit in here, and I doubt we'd make it very far with him in the back. Get pulled over for sure." Engineer got off the highway and started making for the right cross street. "He's pretty reserved, but nice once you get to know him. I'm sure y'all'll get along great, ma'am." 

Spotlight nodded. "Alright, as long as we don't gotta all ride together. Think he can drive that Sniper's van?" 

"I do not know how the _Sniper_  drives it." Spy muttered. "All of this aside, it will be good to have him here. Once we know the name and location of the group that abducted Scout and the bushman, things will become dangerous."

That was the part they hadn't talked about. She'd heard about the Sniper's phone call and all these things about a gang and some arms deal. Thing was, nobody wanted her involved in that part. 

"I, for one, am glad you're callin' the cavalry in." She tried pulling her skirts further out of Tex's way. He needed room to see after all. "Not only do you have backup, but now I get to meet all the nice fellas J- Scout's told me about." 

"They're an all-right bunch, but 'nice fellas' could be stretching it a bit." Engineer said. "They do kill folks for a living."

"You kill folks for a livin', and you're a regular peach, Tex." Oh boy, was it funny to see him flustered. "An' I know he's got a mouth on 'im, but Scout's a good boy. I'm sure there's a lotta other mother's sons out there who'd appreciate the benefit of the doubt." 

Frenchie had been giving her a sidelong look like he knew what she was about. He looked to the Engineer, then back to her. She winked and mimed a little kiss. Let a lady have some fun, why don't he? Tex had what, six or seven years on her oldest? He was too young for her, even if she'd been looking. Besides, Frenchie was as funny jealous as Tex was embarrassed. 

They turned off the access road onto the right exit. She could see the area they were headed into. Bars. Clubs. It looked a little seedy, but no seedier than anything she'd seen in Boston. The only difference was the abundance of boots and cowboy hats. 

Engineer checked the street sign twice before turning. This was it. She craned her neck to get a look at the neon sign, but Frenchie was already out the door and offering her a gentlemanly hand. " _Ma belle,_ this is our stop." 

She never understood why people said it was like having butterflies in their stomachs. It felt more like bees. She had a hundred bees buzzing around in there, and it wasn't getting any quieter. 

"Everything alright?" Engineer was still right there in the driver's seat. She looked his way, remembered what she was about, and nodded. 

"I'll see you in a couple of hours. Take care, and tell the Heavy I said hi." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and watched as he turned red enough to hide the lipstick mark. "One for the road, Tex." 

Frenchie was scowling as he offered her a hand out of the truck. "Was that really necessary, _chérie?_ " 

She waggled her eyebrows at him. "You upset you're not the one doin' the flirting?" Truth be told, she hadn't had this much fun in forever. She was worried sick about her baby, now more than ever, but when was the last time she got dressed up this fancy? Her wedding? She straightened his bow tie and tapped his nose with one finger. "You an' me have a contact to bamboozle, remember?"

He offered her his arm and she took it. Together, they made their way inside. 

The inside of the place was deceptively nice. It was plain to see some renovations had been done, redone, and plastered over anew. Someboy’d put a lot of effort into making sure this place still looked swanky, no matter how far in the pits it had gone. Flashy décor and some club lighting did a lot to cover up, but the carpet was a little too trodden. There was grease in the door hinges and visible cracks in the entryway tile. 

But she was the Spotlight now. She had to draw attention from whatever Spy was doing under the radar. "Wow, baby, ain't this a classy joint?" She stage whispered and giggled like a woman twenty years younger. Better if they thought she was childish. Any contempt they had for the Spy's date would help detract from their study of the man himself. 

"Only the best for you, _chérie._ " He was much more subdued in his delivery, but there was a waiter or a bouncer- she couldn't quite tell which- close enough to get the benefit. More loudly, Spy addressed him. "I am here to see Demetrio. He is expecting me." 

The bouncer/waiter nodded and gestured that the pair follow. He led them through the dimly lit dining area to a more private setting. There was a thick red curtain drawn back from a large booth. In the cushion seat, Spotlight got her first look at the target. Demetrio was wearing a high-quality suit that made up for in craftsmanship what it lacked in style. His hair was slicked back, accentuating the gray at his temples. He might have a few years on Spy, but it was anyone's guess. His real prominent feature was his smile. It was like the reflection of the sun off a car window- made you want to squint and look away. 

"Well, well, if it isn't they Grey Snake himself. How'ya been, Antoine? Or you got a different alias now?" Demetrio clearly wasn't native to the area, no matter how well he'd integrated himself. "You an' your lady have a seat, and we'll get the drinks going." 

"I must say, it is a pleasure seeing you again, old friend." Spy pulled out her chair and then went for his own. He was actually playing the card she'd suggested. Under his calm and detached facade, there seemed to be an eagerness. Demetrio might mistake it for desperation, but she knew it was the excitement of the hunt. 

A different waiter/bouncer brought out a small assortment of bottles on a cart, along with a bucket of ice and some other odds and ends. 

"One of my favorite dinner tricks is mixing drinks for my guests. What can I get you two?" 

Spotlight stole the lead-in before Spy could respond. "Oooh, this far south, I gotta try and get a mimosa! Everybody's always sayin' how they're better closer to where the fruit's actually growin', right babe?" 

Spy managed to cringe in the politest way she'd ever seen. Demetrio chuckled. "I don't usually break out the champagne till later, but how about those Chicago cocktails we always had back in the day? Maybe a couple for old times sake." 

Spy tapped her ankle with his foot incredibly lightly. Cocktails it was. "That sounds super. You got no idea what a workin' girl's gotta do for a good drink. And somethin' classy like this? Deal me in, pal." The act clearly amused Demetrio. She almost felt insulted the way his mouth twitched when she'd said 'working _girl'_  but it meant he'd bought her con hook, line, and sinker. 

"Cocktails it is. I like this gal, Antoine. You always had good taste in gals, though. Classy." 

She grinned, seemingly oblivious to the dig, and readied herself. This was going to be one heck of a dinner. 

* * *

 

"How was California, partner?" 

Heavy had bags under his eyes and a suitcase that went straight into the trunk. He was dressed almost like he always was, only without all the weapons and ammunition. 

"Did not get to see much. Doctor called me here before I get to the beach." 

It didn't seem like he was happy to cut his vacation short, but Heavy was here. Medic must've impressed upon him the magnitude of the situation. Heavy ducked into the cab. "Little men have gotten into trouble. Heavy is here to help get them out of trouble."

"That's about right." Engie put the truck in drive and pulled out of the loading zone for B-16. "Spy's done some digging, and it's a real mess. We found Sniper's van early this morning. And I reckon I've had about as much sleep as you since."

"None."

"Sure enough." 

He filled Heavy in on the particulars as they knew them. Engie also informed him of the team's newest addition. Heavy listened quietly, not interjecting at any point. They made their way down the quieting highway towards the hotel. After Engie finished speaking, Heavy frowned. 

"And how will Doctor and the others help?"

"Well, by my best reckoning, they'll meet us at the hotel- Spy gave 'em the address- and then we'll... I figure we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"It is large bridge, Engineer." 

He nodded. "Sure enough. But it seems like Spy knows what he's doing. If anybody can find those two scrawny needles in the haystack, it's him." 

Heavy chuckled, a booming sound even from so deep in his chest. "Is like work, only on vacation."

"Unfortunately. But, lucky for you, there's a bunch of places to eat around here. Bet you're ready for dinner, huh?" Engie could feel his own empty stomach. Spy hadn't let him stop for something to eat. 

Heavy shook his head. "I am ready to sleep. It was long way to California, and long way here. I am tired, Engineer." 

"Oh." Not one to argue with the big guy, he pointed the truck straight back to the hotel. Once they'd made it, he showed Heavy up to the rooms. "You keep my key, just in case. The others shouldn't be long, if Medic's driving ain't killed them, and they'll need to be updated on the situation." 

" _Da_." Heavy took the little key ring. "You are getting the Spy and Spotlight now?"

"Yep. It might be a bit of a wait. But, if I'm not back before midnight, I reckon that means there's a problem. Still, don't come lookin' for us before the others get here. There's too many movin' pieces now to keep all the parts loose."

Heavy nodded. "Understood. Good luck with the Spy. If he has had drinks, he may be trouble." 

"Will do, partner." Engie left the hotel, stopped by a classic Texas drive thru for a burger, and hit the road again. Dean Martin kept him company as he meandered down the highway towards the rendezvous point. He had to wonder about what yarns Spy was spinning, and how their Spotlight would do on her first job. Shucks- she would do just fine. After all, she had the both of them wrapped around her little finger already. Engie felt like he was gentlemanly enough to help any lady in need, but this was a lady he liked and respected. He reckoned if she asked him to sew pockets into all her dresses, he'd do it no matter how much Spy snickered. 

On top of that, she was Scout's Ma, and that made her like a member of the team. In fact, they might as well make her an honorary RED for all the good she was doing. They'd find Scout and Sniper twice as quick with her help. Spy was conniving for sure, but he couldn't always lay on the charm under pressure. She'd be a good wingman. 

Engie found the corner of Scooter and Toler and parked his truck a ways back from the streetlight. He settled back in his seat and went after the square box of fries in the cup holder. Dean Martin continued singing. Engie supposed he ought've gotten a more concrete time from Spy, but he didn't have much better to do. Besides, they could be back at any time. Best for him to wait this out. 

Time marched on, and he ran out of fries. Engie blinked heavily. He'd been up for goin' on... Yesterday'd been bright an early on account of the loose fan belt in the camper, but he'd gotten a quick nap in that afternoon. So it was something like three hours asleep and thirty-five awake in the last two days. Enough to put any man over the edge. So it was pretty reasonable that Spy startled the life outta him when he opened the passenger door. 

"Gracious alive, Slim, you just about-" Not Spy. Skinny, mean looking, but not the Spy. In the low light, Engie caught a glimpse of a knife. He threw a punch, but either his reflexes were shot or this fella's were off the charts, because it didn't land. The intruder dodged the swing and plunged the knife straight through his glove. Engie jerked his hand back and the knife twisted. He felt something give, and the Gunslinger glove-and-all dropped off into the seat. 

The intruder froze and that gave Engie an opening. He slammed the metal flat of his stump arm into the man's face. It wasn't as forceful as a punch, but it'd hurt pretty bad. There was a sound behind him and the driver's side door flew open as well. This guy had a friend. The second attacker grabbed his free arm and a damp rag was shoved up in his face. 

Engie knew from many a conversation with Demo that chloroform didn't take effect as quick in the real world as it did for Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. It meant he still had a fighting chance to get out of this. He brought the metal stump back around for a swing at the new man, only to have it stop short. His pal had blood gushing out his nose, but he wasn't down for the count. He had the wherewithal to grab Engie by the elbow before he could do any more damage. It was two against one, and he didn't have a lot of room to move. Best he could try was trying to break their hold or get a leg up and kick his way out. 

But despite the adrenaline he was tired, and already getting dizzy. The two of them changed strategy, throwing their weight in to outlast him rather than outfight him. Their plan was working. Engie felt the fight draining out of him as he managed to get a foot free and land a real dirty kick. Even as the driver's-side man fell away, he knew it was too late. The whole world pitched sideways. He didn't have the energy to swat away the hand pulling at his sleeve.

"See? The tip was good." The man with the bloody nose cheered. "He's got this same getup as the other two." Engie realized who those other two had to be and pulled together the strength to push himself upright. A hand shot out to hold his shoulder down and the rag smashed down over his nose. 

"Scrappier than either of them." The second man was breathing hard. "Maybe he's the enforcer? Didn't say nothin' about a fake hand though. He's a big guy, too. Think he's a Vet?" 

"Could be. Cleaner than those others." Engie finally dropped back onto the bench seat. He was fighting the dizziness with everything he had, but drugs were drugs and he was down a hand. The window of opportunity had been closed. 

"Let's get him back to the car. Louie's gonna want to know what they were doin' sniffin' around Demetrio's place."

"Yeah." Bloody nose grabbed him under the arms and pushed him toward the door. "Good thing he tipped us off. You think I oughta grab the hand? It's kinda gross, but it's pretty sweet. I think I saw the fingers move."

"What?" His pal caught Engie as he toppled out the driver's side door. "You gotta bring it. I never seen a fake hand or foot or anything that moves! He must be a Vet. That's military grade tech." 

"I kinda feel bad." Engie heard the truck doors shut. "You seen the stuff on TV. We're grabbin' this guy after all that..." 

The light from the streetlamps disappeared. "Me too. I don't care what these guys in red are up to- We get back, and I'm putting it in with the boss to throw him back. After all, he ain't the Big Man and he ain't the kid with the code. If he ain't the enforcer, we'll turn 'im over when he gets here. Sound alright to you, man?" 

Engie felt like throwing up. He was lying in the back of their car- at the very least they weren't stealing his truck- and there didn't seem to be a way out of this. 

The back door opened again. "Ah... Ah geez, man, how do you tie up a dude with only one hand?" 

"Oh man." Another door opened and shut. "You're right. I guess we, we uh..." 

There were hands on his arms again, and then he blacked out. 


	9. Chapter 9

Heavy settled down on the sofa with a copy of _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ \- a loaner from Sniper- and some coffee. He couldn't very well sleep when the rest of the team was still on their way. Besides, he liked the story of Sir Percy and the Reign of Terror. It would also give him something to talk with Sniper about while Medic kept him from dying. Hopefully, they will have not tortured him much. 

The way Medic had explained it, it was likely one of Sniper's old employers had grabbed him and Scout. They were hoping to make some money or steal some guns or some petty thing. At least he was going to get to meet Scout's mother. She must be incredibly smart and sturdy to keep up with such a child. 

He could hear vehicles coming and going on the nearby road, but only one car he knew could backfire like _that_. Heavy bookmarked his page and headed to the window. Through his reading glasses, he could see the Doctor's old VW chugging up to the parking lot. Once stopped, Soldier got out of the driver's side door, started yelling, and high-fived Pyro who got out the passenger side. 

It was time to head downstairs. He stopped by the desk on the way and booked three more rooms. If Solider was driving, Medic was either asleep, unconscious, or dead. It was up to him to make arrangements. 

By the time he got outside, Soldier was yelling almost-obscenities at Pyro, who was perched on his prone back like a bird. Heavy could hear singing coming from the back of the car. 

Medic and Demo were slumped in the back seat, mumbling a tune. They were drunk, as evidenced by the bottles littering the floorboards. Heavy opened the door and Medic nearly landed face-first on the asphalt. 

"Ah! Ah... Herr Heavy." He patted the beefy arm that had caught him. "You made it. Oh, your arms must be tired from flying all this way!"

Demo burst out in loud guffaws, and soon the both of them were cackling in Heavy's arms. 

"Private!" Soldier yelled from the pavement. "Get this maggot off of me!" 

"Little... man..." Heavy addressed Pyro steadily but uncertainly. "We are going indoors." 

Pyro's mask tilted slightly before the firebug bounded off of Soldier's back and headed for the double doors. It held one open for Heavy while Soldier wheezed and pushed himself off the ground. 

The desk clerk gave the gang a horrified look. Heavy tried to remember what Engineer had said. 

"Is bachelor party." 

The young woman immediately relaxed, rolled her eyes, and got back to reading her magazine. The motley crew managed to all make it to the second floor. Demo and Medic were hardly able to breathe they were laughing so hard, and Pyro studied every single light fixture with delight. Heavy hoped Engineer would come back soon and keep that _thing_  from burning the hotel down with them in it. 

"These drunken louts could not withstand the psychic energy of the local cattle." Solider took Demo off Heavy's hands and accepted a key ring. "As soon as we pulled into Fort Worth, they made a tactical retreat into a liquor store. Just what the cows planned..." The last was more of a growl. Soldier unlocked the door to 205 and deposited Demo on the couch. "Now, we must wait for them to sober up before we can begin neutralizing the bovine influence."

"Yes." Heavy said, not at all comprehending. "While we do this, we must go get Engineer." 

"Mphrrmph!" Pyro perked up instantly. "Mrph hrrnrr mmm hrm mrph mrr mrr!" 

"Yes." Heavy said with as much understanding as he could fake. "Soldier, you will watch Doctor and Demoman?"

"Negatory, private. Demo is more than capable of babysitting himself while his intoxicated blood cells fight off the bovine nano-marines in his brain. I will accompany you to the rally point." 

In his own way, Soldier was right. They could all fit into Medic's car, and if Heavy pushed the seat all the way back, he could drive it. Pyro clapped happily and Solider followed out the door. Heavy looked over his shoulder at Medic, who was sound asleep, and shut the door behind him. 

* * *

 

Her laugh was nasal and obnoxious. It was perfect. Spotlight- boy she was really loving that title- could see how it grated on their host. The lower his opinion of Spy, the better, no matter how much it made him cringe. She acted much further along on her drinks than she was. Spy and Demetrio were still going at whatever was in the shady bottle. It seemed like both their antidotes were working. 

"And you're looking for work. You." They'd finally gotten around to the business portion of the meeting, and Demetrio seemed to be enjoying himself. He kept exchanging overt glances with her and grinning. She'd smile back like it was all some big tipsy joke; maybe throw a little laugh in. 

Spy was impressed, but he had a job to do too. "Unfortunately, my last employer was rude enough to die before I got paid. That has put me in some, how you say, dire straights." It was believable enough. Things happened in the mercenary world that weren’t ideal for business. Such was the life when your line of work was illegal.

"So, you're following up on a list of old friends in the area?"

"Yes. I had hoped you would oblige me, after the work I did for you in Miami.” If he played his cards right, Demtrio would be seeing him in a favorable enough light. Favorable enough to take pity on, perhaps. “I can see it worked out favorably for you, since you are not in prison."

Demetrio leaned back in the cushion seat. "You're not wrong there, Antoine. I got it pretty nice here. Own a couple of bars, a nice little club or two... Business isn't bad. But," Here he paused and glanced at the poison bottle. "I've heard you're not as out of work as you claim. Ain't that right, _enforcer_?"

Spy paused with the glass halfway to his lips. He recalled from their phone call earlier that Sniper's captors had said something about an enforcer. They mentioned that position in particular. Demetrio _knew_. He knew exactly which gang had taken Scout and Sniper, but more importantly, he was in contact with them. This was a betrayal, plain and simple. Demetrio was close with this gang- perhaps one of them, Spy thought as his skin went cold- and had arranged to meet him despite all this. They may have very well walked into a trap.

He'd paused too long to get out of this one cleanly. Spotlight had to think quickly. Tex had told her about the enforcer business, and the fact that whoever took the Sniper and her boy was looking to make big money. If Demetrio knew about all this, about the gang specifically, it meant he'd been told about it from one of them. It meant they knew ahead of time about the meeting. They had to get out of here, and fast. 

But, she wasn't leaving before she knew more about the rats who'd taken her son. Before Spy could open his mouth to respond, she shot to her feet. 

"I've had enough of this!" She grabbed the poison bottle by the neck. "Screw you an' your little games." In one motion, she knocked back the contents of the bottle and broke the body off on the table. Spy and Demetrio were on their feet now, and that gave her the opening she needed. All eyes were on her, and the Spotlight waved her new weapon under Spy's nose. He flinched.

"I thought you said we'd get the guys with the kid, easy as all!" She snarled, before whirling on Demetrio and grabbing him by the lapels. "I didn't come all this way to play dress up with the Doc’s lackey and some small-time in a bad suit. I came to get paid!"

The bouncer/waiters stopped short of the table when they saw the wicked piece of glass in Spotlight's hand. Even Spy looked a little pale under that mask of his. Things were going perfectly. 

"Now, you tell me how to get in touch with these clowns, or I tell the Big Man the deal's off 'cause of _you._  And won't you be sittin' pretty when he rolls into town and uses your face as a dartboard!" 

"Madame, please…" Spy began, in a tone that let her know he was enjoying the show. 

"Oh, don't you 'Madame' me!" She didn't pull the bottle away from Demetrio's neck, but she directed the fire Spy's way. "I know how he is. If I'm not gonna get paid, I'll at least go home happy knowin' this joker's gettin' a whole bunch of new piercings."

She turned back to Demetrio. "The Big Man, right? He's not big on guns for himself, 'cept this little piece he had me rig up to shoot syringes. That's fun, right? Are we having a lot of fun, pal?" 

Demetrio turned about as pale as his tacky suit, and more than a little green. "You d-don't have to tell him anything! Louie's gang's holed up not f-far-" Her grip tightened on his collar, "- _not far from downtown!_  Geez, lady, I'm tellin' you! I'm tellin' you!" 

She let him go and threw down the remainder of the bottle. It shattered, and Demetrio jumped. 

"They're all holed up south of town. Nothin' down there but factories, storage, and one or two residentials. Quiet spot. He's new 'round here and not established. Anybody'd know the operation, just ask around." When he saw her brow creasing he held up his hands. "But! I'll go track down the guy who took his call. The one that I had tip 'em off. He'll know streets and numbers!" 

Under the Spotlight's hot glare, Demetrio sent off a bouncer/waiter toward the back. He was sweating under the beam, tugging at his collar with all the tells of a floundering actor. 

Spotlight herself felt like throwing up. She'd had a cocktail or two already, and now the adrenaline rush was making her sick. It was a gutsy stunt, drinking all that, but she knew Spy had the antidote. Wouldn't be long before they could clear out. 

The bouncer/waiter came back with a young man dressed for the kitchen. Spotlight crossed her arms and glared. 

"Louie's. Where at?"

The young man spoke quickly. "Straight down 77 near the county line. They're renovating an office building off Midway Boulevard. Most of 'em work outta some portables. That's where they'll be."

"Good." She spun on her heel and started walking out. Spy got a late start in walking after her. When she stopped suddenly, he had to slide out of the way. "Don't-" she jabbed a finger at Demetrio, "-make me come back this way. I hate this little city an' I'm startin' to hate you."

With that, the Spotlight went out, and the whole room was left in confusion. 

She made it a little ways down the sidewalk before Spy caught up to her, took her hand, and spun her close. " _Ma passion, ma rasion d'être..."_ he paused, clutching his arms excitedly around her. What a performance! _"_ That was magnificent! I am moved beyond words, I am-" 

She shoved her hands against his chest, spun around, and got sick in the decorative foliage. Her skin shivered with warmth, freezing and burning at the same time. Her knees shook even as she managed to keep mostly upright. Nobody'd followed them out and she was grateful for it. She'd gone as long as she could manage before burning out. One of Spy's gloved hands gathered her hair out of her face, while the other rubbed circles on her back. 

"I have another antidote tablet here, when you are ready." His tone was soft, cool against the backdrop of snarling heat and flashing veins. He offered himself as a support, taking her arm and helping her up. She whipped the decorative handkerchief out of his pocket, spread it over his suit, and dropped her face against his chest. 

"Get me to the cab." Her throat was raw from the stomach acid and alcohol. Everything hurt from her hips to her shoulders after a spasm like that. Boy did she hate throwing up. 

Spy's hold was gentle. He had a way about him, real sensitive when he wanted to be. "I am flagging one down as we speak." Soon enough, she heard the rumble of tires and felt the hot gust of wind at her ankles. Spy opened the door and helped her inside. She looked up and found that, at some point, he'd thrown on one of his other faces. Probably for the cab driver's benefit. 

"You and your gal have a wild night?" Spy glared at the driver as he shut the door. Soon, she was settled back where she'd been before in his arms. 

"My _wife_  is sufferin' from food poisoning, _mister_." He ground out in a passable Southern accent. "Scooter and Toler a couple blocks back that way. _Move."_  

The cab took off at a great pace. If her stomach weren't still in knots, she'd laugh. As it was, she kept one hand across her middle and the other with a white-knuckled grip in his suit jacket. One of his hands left her shoulders and returned with a little white tablet. 

"This'll help your stomach, sweetheart." He was still doing the goofy accent, but she accepted the antidote. Hopefully, she'd still be able to sleep tonight and not spend the rest of the evening in the bathroom. She felt gross, trapped in the sweaty dress sweet Tex had sewn at the zipper. Remembering another modification, she reached into a cleverly hidden pocket and pulled out a plastic tube. 

Spy wrapped his hand around hers and examined it. "A flask?" He murmured. 

"Water." She clarified. " _In_  a flask. In case I got dehydrated." She spun the lid off with her thumb and took a drink. The water wasn't cold, but it felt good to have something clean running down her throat. Something that wasn't booze. 

The cab was slowing down. As soon as they stopped, Spy paid the driver and helped her out the door. Her legs felt like rubber, and she could tell Frenchie was concentrating on holding her up. When she looked up, she spotted Tex's truck, right where it ought to be. The cab drove off and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

"We made it." Her knees wobbled and Spy helped her to the curb. "We're home free."

"He hasn't gotten out of the truck." She picked her head up and followed Spy's line of sight. He was staring at the red pickup, trying to make out the driver's side through the shadows. Slowly, the headlights of an approaching car illuminated the truck from behind. The light reached the windows and flooded into the cab. No Engineer. 

Spy got to his feet as the other car came down the street. "Can you wait a moment, _petite?_  Something is wrong." She patted his hand in agreement and rested her arms on her knees. Curled up this way, she could minimize the ache in her stomach. Spy crossed in front of the passing car, which slammed to a stop in the middle of the road. 

"Spy!" 

"Heavy?" 

Spy held a hand up against the glare of the headlights. "What are you doing here in- is that Medic's car?" 

The passenger door opened, and Soldier disembarked. "Affirmative! He and Demo are back at the hotel, locked in psychic combat with the enemy. We are here to pick up Engineer. What are you doing here, and why are you out of uniform?" 

"Solider, get in car or get out of car! I need to park!" 

Fully exiting the vehicle, Solider stood out of the way so Heavy could move Medic's VW to one side of the road. Spy crossed his arms and addressed Solider. 

"One, we are here to be _picked up_  by Engineer, and two, I am undercover."

"I see! Your fancy dress disguise is an acceptable alternative to a cow suit. They will never see it comin- Spy! What kind of coward ignores a woman on the side of the road?" Solider shoved past his teammate and strode up to the curbside. "Has this croissant assaulted and or neglected you? I will have him court-martialed!" 

Before she could respond, Soldier had stripped off his outer jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She yelped as he stooped down and hoisted her off the ground. "We will sober up the Medic and have you seen to immediately! The communist cows can wait- it is my sworn duty as an American to protect the women of this country as I would Lady Liberty!" 

"Put her down, you imbecile! That is Scout's mother, and she has been poisoned!" 

Soldier looked down at the lady, now much greener around the gills, before continuing to the VW. "All the more reason to get her to Medic as quickly as possible. Open the door, Smokey Joe! We are assisting a lady!" Spy watched in stupefaction as Pyro opened the door and climbed out of the car so Soldier could help his Spotlight inside. He clenched his fists and was about to go for his knife when Heavy called out to him. 

"Spy! Engineer has left it unlocked." 

He counted to three before turning on his heel and making his way toward the pickup. The happy humming at his shoulder told him Pyro had come along. The very mention of Engineer had drawn it away from Solider and the VW. The truck was as empty as it had been. Spy came around to the driver's side to stand next to Heavy. Pyro was crawling through the passenger door. 

There was an empty hamburger wrapper in the floorboard. Obviously, the Engineer had been hungry. "Perhaps he has stepped out for a snack. I know there a few fast food dives in this neighborhood." 

Heavy nodded. "Is possible. Would he leave car unlocked for so long?"

"He might-"

Spy was interrupted by muffled screaming. They both looked up to find Pyro rocking back and forth in the passenger seat, clutching something close to the asbestos suit and wailing. It was only then that Spy noticed the blood on the seat. 

"What have you found?" Spy climbed up into the truck and held out his hand to Pyro. In such a state of distress, the firebug might respond to his demands. The object was thrust into his face with a muffled sob. It was... it was just a cassette tape. 

Spy frowned. "And...?"

Pyro let out an exasperated wail. It held up the tape and made a screwdriver motion with one gloved hand. 

"Little man rewinds tape?" Heavy inquired from the open door. There was a horrible noise from behind the mask and the screwdriving increased. 

Spy waved his extended hand. "May I?" Pyro seemed reluctant to let it go, but finally acquiesced. Spy turned the tape over in his hands- Dean 'Tex' Martin Rides Again- before looking back up at Pyro. "It is not rewound." 

Pyro nodded vigorously and snuffled through the mask. "Hrrn _rrnrr_  rrmrr mph!" 

Spy handed the tape back to Pyro, who resumed rocking back and forth in the seat. He exited the truck the way he came and turned to Heavy. "I gather that the Engineer _always_  rewinds his tapes before he leaves his truck. And-" Spy stopped as something caught his eye. He bent down and reached behind the front tire. "-And it would not be like him to leave his _keys_  outside the vehicle." 

Heavy's expression darkened. "He did not want to leave." 

"No." Spy shook his head. "And I believe I know why. Can you drive his truck back to the hotel? There are some things we must discuss." 

Nodding in silent agreement, Heavy took the keys and climbed into Engineer's truck with Pyro. Spy headed back to Medic's VW and got into the back seat. There was his Spotlight, his _raison d'être_ , huddled up under Soldier's jacket. She cracked open an eye to look at him, before taking over his leg as a pillow. 

"About time you finished lollygagging, you cheese-loving beret. We need to get this breathtaking American lady back to the base on the double!" The engine roared to life and Spy had a flash of panic. 

"Drive carefully, Solider! You do not wish to... upset the poison in her system." 

Soldier shifted gears. "Right you are, maggot. A passenger so important requires a delicate hand at ten and two, and the most ornate of lead feet on the pedals." 

Spy held his Spotlight with one hand, and the roof handle with the other. Soldier floored it. 


	10. Chapter 10

The only way Sniper knew for sure Scout had fallen asleep was when he stopped talking. The kid's head lolled back on his shoulder, and Sniper stayed still to keep from waking him. He didn't know what time it was, but it had been more than a day since they'd initially been stuck down here. His bruises where set and purple now, but he'd found it easier to stay awake. 

It was a bit like waiting on a target. You had to be alert at all times in case they appeared outside of the schedule. You had to keep your mind focused and relaxed at the same time. Does no one good getting the jitters. No one except the mark, maybe. 

He sighed and tried to think what to tell his Mum when they got out of this. Their chances weren't great, but the team was looking for them. He might get the chance to tell his Mum that he had given up the criminal life so thoroughly that criminals had tried to kill him, and that's why he missed his flight. His Dad might not buy it, but when did he ever? Sniper sighed softly. Mum said they loved him, always would, but why was it so hard to see? 

A door slammed shut upstairs. Sniper heard the footsteps approaching and shrugged Scout off. "Look alive, mate, they're coming." 

Scout spluttered but managed to collect himself before the door flew open. It was two new goons and Louie, and the body they hoisted between them was instantly recognizable even without the trademark hardhat. 

"Truckie!"

"Engie!" 

The two goons dropped him on the floor and Louie paused to smirk. "We got Little Joe, big brother Adam, and guess that makes your dumb handyman  _Hoss._  Happy trails, boys. I got a call to make."

Sniper didn't take his eyes off the Engineer even as his old boss and cronies exited. He was lying real still. Could he- no, Louie wouldn't-

"Heh. Guess he don't know Dan Blocker's smart enough for MENSA." The Engineer started trying to push himself upright, and ended up rolling more or less onto his side. "But this's… a lot tougher with just one hand." 

"Engie! You're alive!" Scout hollered. "You were lookin' pretty dead a second there. I thought you came all this way only to get axed by a couple bad movie extras, man!" 

Engie chuckled and coughed. Sniper could see the metal hand was indeed out of the picture, and that Louie's men had bound his good wrist to his other elbow with the man's own extension cord. Fools, the lot of them. 

"Boy, am I glad to see you two. Wish it were out there and not… in here, but..." He managed to roll and face them both. There was a fine layer of sweat on his brow. Sniper's eyes narrowed. 

"What happened? How'd you find us?" Scout seemed excited, despite everything. "Is the whole gang here? Did they just get you 'cause you got the shortest legs, or is Pyro up there somewhere fryin' people into charcoal? Is Demo with you? Medic? Snipes almost died so I'm wondering if Medic came and brought all his crap along so that neither of us die all the way, you hear me?" 

Engie blinked slowly and Sniper punched Scout in the back. "Let him talk, mate." It seemed like Truckie was having trouble getting his bearings in more ways than one. Sniper's gut said drugs, since there wasn't a mark on him, save some blood on one sleeve that didn't look to be his. 

"Me an' Spy got here this mornin'. Picked up your Ma from the airport. She's worried sick about you, son. Heavy's here too, and the rest are on their way if they didn't make it already. Spy's got a contact, s'posed to be able to find y'all." 

Sniper grabbed Scout's arm for quiet, even though the kid was fit to explode with questions. "How'd they get you? You an' the spook gettin' too close to their operation?"

He didn't like the glassy look in Truckie's eyes. Drugs for sure, some kind or another. They were doing a number on him. It took him a long time to come up with an answer. "I don't rightly know. No matter which way I figure it, they shouldn't know a thing about Spy, your Ma, or me. Unless they..." His face creased in concentration. "They might think Spy and I are in this fake gang you led 'em on with." 

"I bet-" Sniper stopped short when he heard footsteps on the stairs. "They're coming back. Truckie, it's important- Spy's the enforcer, Medic's the big boss, got that?" 

The Engineer only had time to blink at him before the door opened again. It was Louie and Frank and some other guy Sniper didn't recognize. Young bloke, might be a new hire. They all looked the part, though, menacing in the doorway. He watched in silent panic as Truckie tried to turn and see what was going on. He managed to flip into the dirt before Frank hauled him off the floor by his overalls. 

"Hey, you guys leave him alone-"

"-Put him down, Frank he's harmless-" 

Louie sized up the bleary-eyed Engineer who was trying his darnedest to muster up a scowl. "So, Hoss here's a driver and a handyman and a real popular guy, I take it?" 

Scout fumbled for Sniper's arm. If this was the part of the D-list movie it was shaping up to be, he didn't like it. They had to do something before Louie could. It surprised them both when the move was made for them. 

"I do what I can." Engineer was making a sloppy grin. "Sometimes, I have t'bury the bodies but it pays good." 

Louie wasn't sure how to take that. Could be a threat, could just be an honest statement of fact. "Who do you drive around? The Big Man?" 

Engie gave him a half chuckle. "The Boss drives himself 'round. No, I'm just chauffeuring his enforcer. Don't know how to drive a car himself, European dandy." 

Sniper's pounding heart eased back a pace. Truckie figured it out quick. He was playing cards on their behalf. Sniper gave Scout a tap of support and let the man with eleven doctorates do the talking. 

"Is that so? And I guess they think pretty good of you to do his driving, huh?" 

Engie gave him a half shrug. "They like me well enough. I keep my mouth shut." His lips formed a thin line and his expression hardened. Louie got the message. 

"Well, we gotta get in touch with your enforcer somehow. Ain't you got a number we could call? A place he's staying?" Frank hefted the Engineer up to the point where his feet dangled in midair. "It'd make things go a lot smoother if you'd change your tune." 

Sniper's eyes widened. He could see where this was headed: Downhill. _Fast_. Stupid _stupid-_ He was going to get himself killed over a half-baked lie. "Just tell him, Truckie and be done with it! You... you tell him or I will!" 

"Yeah! I'll tell him too. What's the enforcer ever done for you, hardhat?" Scout tried to pick up the line and came off more scared than anything. It backfired, big. Louie looked from them, to the Engineer and back again. A smirk started growing across his face. Sniper's heart sank. They were all in for it now. 

"I see what's goin' on." Louie gestured to the two on the floor. "They don't want to see you dead, and you don't want to see them dead neither. You came all this way with the enforcer to make sure all your blue-collar boys came back alive." He grinned. "This is gonna be easy. Frank, hit Mundy till he starts talking." 

The goon's grip on the overalls slackened, and Engie fell to the floor in a heap. "Wait-" The breath got knocked out of him, and he had to pull it back together. "Wait, I'll give you the number. Can't guarantee he's gonna answer but..." 

"Good enough. Let's hear it." 

"214-" Engie coughed, "555-6907, extension 0203." He glared up at Louie from here he was curled on the ground. "Now leave 'em be." 

Louie towered over him like some triumphant BLU at the end of a match, where everything had been decided and it was someone's turn for pain. Frank was still standing between him and them, undecided on whether or not his services would be required. The third man, the young one, looked pale. He stayed near the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a mild look of disgust. 

"Boss, should I, uh, go call 'em or-?" Louie forgot the Engineer for a moment and spun to face his lackey. 

"Go give the number to Sam and tell Roger to stop playing with that hand. We're not finished down here." 

The young guy got even paler before he nodded and shot up the stairs. Engie used the distraction to rear back his legs and take Louie out at the knee. Frank was on him in a second, pulling him into the air and tossing him at the back wall. Engie slid the last foot in and bounced off the concrete at Sniper's boots. 

"That was pretty dumb, handyman." Louie accepted Frank's hand up and dusted off his jacket. "You got about two minutes before I send somebody down here with a crowbar. You don't need kneecaps to send a message to your boss."

"Oh, you think that's real smooth, don't'cha?" Scout yelled towards the door. "Threatenin' a guy with one hand. 'Oooh, I'm a big scary mobster and I'm takin' a bat to your kneecaps', all I see's a big coward! At least our boss man does his stuff personal. He ain't so afraid of a guy too messed up to throw a punch that he sends his goons after 'em instead!" 

"Kid, shut your mouth-"

"Nah, man, I ain't done! I seen bigger 'n you and tougher 'n you get taken down by our Engie, so you're right to be scared of him when he's on his game. But this? This is just sad! Even if you do get a call through to our S- enforcer, man, you better watch your back! You can't take 'im in a fair fight and he's not gonna let you stack the odds!" 

Sniper could have crushed the bones in Scout's wrist for all the good it did. Louie was bound to be furious, and Truckie wasn't moving. They were walking on a razor's edge, and Scout couldn't keep his mouth shut. 

"I think we might need a little more info on this boss of yours, if he's such hot stuff. Frank, let's take him back to the portable, see what he knows." 

Scout steeled himself for Sniper ripping his hand off when they'd try to pull him away. But Frank didn't go his way. Scout dug his fingers into Sniper's arm for that fight, but Frank didn't stop. 

They took Engie. Scout yelled, shouted profanities, came up with the worst of the curses any of the other guys had ever said on the battlefield. He hollered until Louie sent Frank back down and gagged him with a roll of ace bandage. Sniper was deathly quiet all the while. Frank shut the door again, and he sighed.

"You're an idiot, but this weren't your fault."

Scout's muffled reply was lost on him.

"Y'sound a bit like Pyro doin' that."

The next response probably contained profanity. Sniper got that much from the tone. "Alright, alright. Turn your head around, and I'll see if I can chew the knot undone. Then we'll see what we can do about the rest of this."

He thought it would be smooth sailing once Engie got here. Turns out, things only got worse.

* * *

 

Demo and Medic had been found in the bathroom of 205, fairly green around the gills and empty of their regrets. Demo was lying facedown in the empty bathtub, while Medic was sprawled across the counter overlooking the toilet. Heavy had been able to coax (carry) the doctor out of the bathroom to help their Spotlight.

Introductions, at this point, were miserable.

"Hello, Frau Spotlight." Medic stuck out a hand from where he was slung under Heavy's arm. "I am the Medic. Pardon my appearance, but I have been regurgitating alcohol for the last hour."

She took his hand from where she was bundled up on the bed. Spy had helped cut her out of the dress and she'd promptly kicked him out of the room to finish being sick and change. Her makeup was smeared at the eyes and her lipstick was gone. "My evenin's been about the same. Pleasure to meet you, Doc. Scout's told me... a lot about you."

"Really?" He perked up a little. "Only the interesting bits, I hope?"

She thought back to the bird story. "Yeah. I guess."

Medic chuckled briefly before holding a hand to his head. "Heavy, if you would be so kind as to set me down on the floor, I will get to work. After that, leave me to die. I am no match for Herr Demo and his liver.” Heavy did as he was asked and was about to exit the room when Solider and Pyro burst in. Medic buried his face in the carpet at the sound of the firebug's unceasing wails.

"Doctor, I need you to remove Smokey Joe's vocal chords on the double! This maggot has not stopped crying since we recovered the Engineer's truck." At the mention of the Engineer, Pyro cried harder. "See? Not even bolstering tales of American heroism or acts of violence can lift his spirits. Also, he impaled me with a lamp and I need you to remove it."

Medic pushed himself up onto one elbow. "If you will wait just a moment, I will finish killing Soldier and then see to you." Apparently, the light bulb and lamp shaft buried in Soldier's torso was an 'easy fix'. Spotlight curled up in her blanket. This outfit was a mess. How did her sweet Jeremy live with these lunatics? Maybe Tex's warning had been right.

The Pyro- the little gal or guy or something with the cassette tape- started pacing. Already dizzy from poison and booze, Spotlight didn't figure she could take it. "Here, uh, pal, have a sit." She patted the mattress. "Tell me about it." Talking would be far worse than screaming at any rate. Spy had filled her in on the Engineer's disappearance. Now, there were three of these boys to go after. And this little... person was taking it hard.

"Hrr mrrph rr mphh mrr rmmrr mph." Pyro began. Pausing, a gloved hand came up to the bottom edge of the mask and lifted it a fraction. Water gushed out and soaked the front of the firebug's suit. "Mrph Rnngr nnh rr mrr rrss mrrrs."

Pyro spun the cassette back and forth, treating it as carefully as one would a glass figurine.

"He is Engineer's little friend." Heavy stood in the only place unoccupied in the small room. "Helps him. Protects him. I think also spends Christmas in the Engineer's barn. I do not know why."

There was a heavy sniffle from behind the mask. Spotlight laid a hand on one of the gloves and managed to ignore the remainder of Soldier's blood. "My boy's missin' too. You know Scout?" Pyro nodded and she continued, "I'm his Ma. We're gonna get them both back, Scout and your Engie. Then you can both uh... Both get back to whatever it is you do out in New Mexico. Sound good?"

Pyro nodded again. It slipped the cassette tape into the little belt pouch. Spotlight smiled and patted it's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine. You boys are good at this kinda thing."

"There! Now stay _away_ from the Pyro or I will have to separate you two! Go bother Demo or something." Medic shooed Soldier out the door. He rolled off the couch and dragged his kit to the bedside. "He is exhausting. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Got anything that'll make me feel less like I just got run over?"

Medic gave her a sympathetic smile. "If I had, I would've taken three. I can prescribe bed rest. Oh! Maybe a little-" He began pulling a syringe out of his bag with a gleam in his eye when he was stopped short by the blade of an axe. Pyro had whipped it out in an instant. Medic frowned.

"Fine, fine, but you are no fun." He closed his kit. "There's nothing I can do, at least, nothing involving traditional medicine." Medic gave Pyro a withering look. "Go on, ruin my fun, but don't come crying to me when Solider returns for revenge."

Pyro kept the axe handy. Medic sighed. "Heavy, if you would help to the other room. I still cannot feel my legs and I may have alcohol poisoning."

They left, and it was just her and Pyro in 203. "You gonna... You want the couch or something?" Pyro nodded vigorously. Soon, the foldout was deployed and Pyro was bouncing happily. Spotlight shook her head and buried herself under the blankets. Frenchie said he'd take care of things tonight. She was more worried than ever, but she trusted him. He'd get whatever they needed done.


	11. Chapter 11

Spy wasn't smoking in 203. He had his cigarette out, unlit, while he slouched forward in the room's only chair. Engineer's stout suitcase was resting between the arm of the couch and the wall, snug as could be. Spy thought of the blood on the seat and winced. He'd been distracted. It was easy to be. He was trapped in the Spotlight, and hadn't been able to see anything else.

Demetrio's betrayal should have been expected, planned for. Spy should've warned the Engineer to lock his truck, to keep his guard up. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have expected him to be that sharp. Spy had been able to catch two cat naps- one on the road and the other during operation Sniper's van- but the Engineer had no such luxury. He had been a liability, through no fault of his own.

They had gained something out of this. They had learned the identity of the man responsible for all of this. Louis 'Louie' Hallison was easily in the top five of Sniper's most dangerous enemies by Spy's count. The man did not have any particular power or influence, but he had a loyal gang and an undying hatred for the bushman. More than once, Spy had been asked by Miss Pauling to throw the gang off Sniper's scent. Apparently, there was bounty on the bushman's head. Louie never specified dead or alive.

And Engineer had fallen into their hands. Now, they had three hostages (hopefully they were still hostages and not corpses) that they would undoubtedly try and use against him. Against the whole team.

Spy wanted to smoke. He wanted to burn through the whole pack right here in this chair. But he couldn't.

Someone knocked on the door. Knowing his teammates, it was serious. They rarely dared bother him when he shut himself up like this unless it was an emergency. Or unless it was Pyro. The firebug knew no fear, but was likely still inconsolable over the Engineer's abduction. So, an emergency.

"It is open." Spy turned the cigarette over in his hands. The door opened and he shoved it away on the table.

It was Heavy. "Ms. Spotlight is asleep, as is Medic. Pyro and Soldier are watching them." He paused. "What is the plan to kill bad men?"

Spy nearly snorted. It was just like Heavy to cut straight to the chase. No beating around the bush with him. Ironically, he was one of the few people Spy felt he could hold a real conversation with. Heavy had, at some point in his closely guarded and mysterious past, been a man of high and classical tastes. The few times they had spoken at length had been refreshing. There was no deception in Heavy and, for once, none in Spy either. Heavy was one of the very few people Spy trusted completely. Though hardly an open book, the big Russian was brutally honest, straightforward, and consistent. He was predictable in a good way, with his stance on anything very available.

And he wanted to get this thing moving.

Spy sat up in his chair. "Ideally, we drive out to the complex and have the Pyro burn it to the foundations, but that would pose some... issues."

Heavy nodded but didn't interrupt. Spy continued. "We know who has them. We know why they have them. And we want them back alive." Heavy's expression hardened but he still didn't speak. "That part poses the most difficulty. Somehow, Sniper has convinced them that we are all part of a vast criminal organization of indeterminate scale. They believe they can cut their way into a deal between ourselves and some fictitious arms dealer, whose role the Spotlight assumed at dinner. I do not know what they think about the Engineer or..." Or if he was any use to them alive. So far, they'd been keen enough to keep Scout and Sniper living but...

"I think," Heavy began. He didn't have the chance to continue. They were interrupted by the ringing of Spy's hotel phone. Both of them exchanged a look.

"Is not Soldier. I unplugged his phone first thing."

Spy cocked an eyebrow at the phone before lifting the receiver. "Who is this?"

" _Slim, hang up. Don't listen to a word he-_ " Spy stiffened as Engineer's voice cut off to the sound of a gunshot and a scream. Heavy moved toward the desk quickly. There were more sounds of distress, distant, removed from the phone's easy range. After a scrape and a click, another voice met him on the line.

" _Got some pretty good advice from your delivery boy, 'Slim'."_ It was undoubtedly Louie Hallison. " _Don't worry about your driver. I'm sure you can find your way here without him. Let's hope he's used to pushing pedals with one leg. He's gonna have to for a while_."

Spy's knuckles were white under his gloves. He could feel the plastic give slightly under his fingers, but he spoke to Louie in an even, almost causal tone. "Oh? I certainly hope it was 'is left leg. What is the point of this? Shooting my driver, abducting the child and the bushman? Please don't tell me this is an attempt at intimidation."

" _I got a lotta respect for you- from what Mundy said, you're a regular iceman. A cool head. Reasonable."_

"I doubt the bushman put it in such flattering terms." Spy listened to see if he could hear Engineer in the background. Nothing. "What do you want?"

He could almost hear Louie's smirk. " _I have the key to the arms deal, my friend. Consider this an introduction letter. I've moved my operation to the Metroplex, and I can facilitate a lot of small deals for an organization like your own."_

"A proposition!" Spy managed to sound intrigued. "I am sure the Boss will be... interested in hearing your case. But first, you have some things that belongs to me, and I will be taking them back."

There was a pause on the other end. " _Fair enough. As a show of good faith, I'll send a couple of my boys to bring you what's yours. You can tell them when the Big Man's available to talk. The sooner the better. I heard from a reliable source that your dealer's pissed. But I'm sure you know all about it."_

"Indeed. She can be..." Spy couldn't think of anything to fill that gap. He pressed on. "As my own show of good faith, I will let your men pick the location of the drop. However," his tone became dangerous, "know that I am not coming alone or unarmed. If you do not wish for your numbers to be thinned and my patience to run out, they will return my things and nothing more."

Louie actually laughed. " _Fair's fair, my friend. How about 5108 Moreston Avenue? Nice, big abandoned parking lot. Nowhere to hide people, nowhere to sneak up by? And it's neutral ground. Nowhere near my base of operations... or your hotel."_

Spy's blood boiled. "Excellent. Your men will be there in two hours, or I will burn your new headquarters to the ground, _portables and all_." He slammed the phone back down before Louie could respond. Heavy had been following along as he could, but he looked to Spy to fill him in.

"We need to take Sniper's van. I believe Louie is going to hand them over." Heavy nodded.

"Then it is everyone, or the two of us?"

Spy shook his head. "That many will not fit in the van, and besides, we will have injured. Medic is still recovering, you said?"

Heavy nodded again. "And Spotlight. They will not be of much use right now."

That was only a minor setback. They could bring Engineer, Sniper, and Scout back to Medic before the lot of them skipped town. Yes, that would work. It would have to. They only had two hours to plan.

"Very well. Do you have a darker shirt?" Heavy shook his head. "Nevermind," Spy waved him off, "It will do. We will take Demoman with us as well. Soldier will be too much trouble, especially with something as delicate as this." He gestured for Heavy to follow him into the hall. "The only question is, how to dissuade him from tagging along?"

"Leave this to me." Heavy strode past him and pushed open the door to 206. "Soldier!" He barked. "You are coming with us to store because it is too dangerous to leave baby man in charge of hotel. Demoman can watch better with one eye than you can with two!"

The bellowing whipped Soldier up off his perch on the couch, and tore him from _Gilligan's Island_. "You must be cow-mad if you think I cannot handle danger, you communist gun-smoocher!" He pointed toward the bathroom where Demo's feet were visible over the edge of the tub. "Take that slobbering drunk with you for groceries, and leave a real man to guard the hotel! They will want to move Fort Knox _here_ because it will be so secure, but I will tell them no- their sorry security would compromise the well-oiled machine I will have in place before you return. This machine will run on cow blood and American spirit!"

"Very, well." Heavy said evenly. "You have convinced me."

"My logic is impenetrable, like my hotel defenses." Soldier marched to the bathroom and turned the knob on the shower. Demo was immediately awake and flying out of the tub. "Wake up, maggot! You need to take your dress to the store and return it!"

Heavy and Spy left with a moderately soaked Demo.

"That was... I am impressed."

"Is easy, once you know he cannot resist challenge."

Spy nodded. "I don't know why I did not think of that."

"Cause you're both idiots." Demo groaned. "Now he's not gonna let us back in."

They paused just outside Sniper's van. Heavy and Spy looked at each other. "I will..." Heavy frowned. "I will think of another plan."

* * *

 

He had to wake up, to put his brain back into gear. It was a lot more than he was used to. Usually it was easy, Medic or a dispenser nearby, a health kit to go for and patch himself up with... The henchman whose nose he'd broken was holding him down while another fella wrapped a field dressing on his leg. At least they weren't gonna let him bleed out.

"Just... hold still man, he's almost done." Broken nose had his chest and shoulders pinned. "Why'd he have to... Geez, Barry, what'd he go and shoot him for?"

Barry tied a knot off tight, and Engineer gritted his teeth. "He's real determined to make this better than New Orleans. Frank wouldn't shut up about the operation they had back there, all smooth sailing before the cops got a lucky break and called a raid right in the middle of a big op. Dave, can you pass me that gauze? I gotta do the bandage part now. Tourniquet's in."

"Yeah, man, sure thing." Broken-nose Dave grabbed a wad of bandages and a clean pack of gauze and tossed it Barry's way. Before he could rip open the paper, the door to the portable opened.

"Hey, hurry that up. You two need to drive him out to the old Winn Dixie parking lot. The enforcer's picking him up."

"Not the one on Jefferson and Hatcher! That one's gonna be lit up, it's right near that development."

"No, you idiot." The newcomer spat. "The little one on Moreston that closed last fall. Whole area's slotted for demolition in September. It'll be deserted."

"Oh." Dave sat back and Engie sucked in a deep breath now that the pressure was off. He still wanted to writhe away from Barry's less than skillful ministrations, but...

"Yeah, dummy. Him and that creepy hand, Moreston avenue, an hour and a half. Louie wants you there a little early. You're gonna set up a meeting with their big boss."

Barry stopped bandaging. "Us? Is he nuts? We just started last week!"

"Well, now's your chance to prove yourselves. Hour and a half." The door slammed shut and they were alone again. Dave leaned back down and held Engie's shoulders again.

"Oh man, he's sending us to die." He swallowed hard. "They're gonna kill us when they see how messed up this guy is."

"We gotta try, Dave." Barry wiped the sweat off his brow. "We're dead if we fail anyway, or bail outta this." He finished applying the gauze and got ready to wrap the wound. "Hold him. This is gonna be bad."

Barry was right. Engie couldn't roll away with the two of them keeping him pinned. When it was finally over, he went limp on the floor. He would kill someone, maybe both of them, for just a second under a dispenser. The adrenaline from being shot had long since worn off. Now, he was fighting a losing battle to stay awake.

"He doesn't look so hot."

"The man's been shot, Dave, what are you even doing?"

Dave sat back on his heels. "We got any aspirin around? Carl's got his needles, but I don't wanna mess with that stuff."

"No, you don't." Barry said. "You wouldn't know what to do with 'em anyway. No, but I think we got something in the kit. Strong stuff. This is supposed to be a construction site on the level end. I bet they got the hookup."

Dave fished around the first aid kit and Engie tried to lie still. He could feel his muscles starting to twitch. In a few minutes he'd be a shaking mess. After that, it was anybody's guess. Hopefully, Spy would bring Medic along with him to this meet up. He just hoped he was still alive in two hours.

"This looks good. Here, what's this?" Dave tossed a plastic baggie to Barry, who caught it and turned it over.

"Whoa!" His eyebrows rose. "This ain't over-the-counter stuff. Man, what do they think's goin' on out here? Just wrote ‘pain killer’ in marker… Yeah, this'll do in a pinch. Grab a cup from the water cooler. _Geez_ , these are horse pills..."

Dave returned with the water before Engie could try and roll away. He didn't need drugs; he needed to keep a clear head. He had to keep his eyes open, get information about the site layout for Spy, and figure out exactly where Sniper and Scout were being held. He'd been woken up in a different portable and dragged here, but those two were holed up underground.

Barry tore open the package and Engie tried to turn away. "No... Don't need 'em, just leave it alone." Dave grabbed his shoulder and kept him where he was.

"Nah, man, trust Barry on this. It uh, it looks real bad. Bet it hurts like nothin' else."

"He's lost a hand, Dave."

"Uh... Then, uh, well, you know how bad this hurts, man. Just let Barry do this thing. He like, definitely used to be a nurse."

Barry rolled his eyes again. "Why do I put up with you?" He took the cup of water and dropped the pills in. "Look, Truckie, or whatever they're callin' you- I can make you take these, or you can take 'em voluntarily. Just think about it. You're goin' back to your own gang in like, an hour. You can do that dying or floating. Your pick."

Engie really didn't like the idea of subjecting himself to this, but he also didn't trust anyone- nurse or no- trying to force anything on him. It could get ugly.

"Alright, one condition." He sighed. "Let me do it. I don't want to drown."

"Fair." Barry nodded at the cord. "Turn him loose for a sec."

Dave gave him a skeptical look, but he trusted Barry's judgment. Engie almost grinned. He was too weak to put up much of a fight, but it was funny listening to what they thought of him. Between henchmen, he was anything from a handyman to an ex-military mechanic and plenty more in-between. From what he'd gathered, Dave and Barry were a couple of old friends who'd stumbled into this almost by accident.

He took the cup with the horse pills and knocked it back in one go. Engie shivered. Could be the shock, or the cold water just entering his system. Barry glanced around, stood up, and locked the portable's front door. "Let's set him on the couch. In a few minutes he's not gonna be able to feel a thing."

The pair of them hoisted him up and helped him to the little sofa. Engie sank back onto it like it was a bed of feathers. "Much obliged." The medicine wouldn't kick in for a bit, but this was already a relief. They were doing him a good turn, even though they'd get in trouble if anybody came inside. "You best tell the enforcer everything when you see him. If I ain't-" He swallowed. "If I'm not awake when y'all meet him, you tell him...You tell him you can take care of the armadillos for him. He'll know what that means."

Barry and Dave exchanged a look like he was talking crazy. "You two want outta this alive, right? He can make it happen." Suddenly, the energy drained right out of him like somebody left a sapper on his gut. "You boys can trust him..."

He couldn't tell what they thought about his idea. Whether it was the exhaustion, shock, or drugs, something hit him like a truck.


	12. Chapter 12

Sniper's van was essentially as it always was. Demo put the seat back the way he liked it while Heavy drove and Spy sulked in the back. They'd found the lot on a road atlas and were managing to get there pretty well.

"Next exit's the one. On your right."

Heavy grunted in response. He didn't like the way the driver's side was set up, with a wall at his back. There was only so far the seat could go. Demo studied the map again and determined the next cross-street to look out for. It was a sharp turn, and Heavy would need a bit of warning.

"Moreston's next. It's a hairpin, so take it easy, mate." Demo folded the map up and put it back in Sniper's glove box. The man actually kept a pair of fingerless gloves in there. First Demo'd ever heard of that.

Spy chose this moment to take interest in the road. "Are we clear on what we must do?"

Demo rolled his eye. They'd only been over this half a dozen times. "Aye, laddie. We go out, an' you do all the talkin'. Isnae very hard to remember."

"Good. We don't know how many they are sending." Heavy made the turn slowly. This was Moreston Avenue. There were a lot of chain-link fences, patches of unkempt brown grass, and -surprisingly- a couple of coyotes. Spy frowned. "I hate Texas."

Demo watched the road for any signs. "There!" He pointed to an open lot where a pair of headlights shone out in the darkness. It was too late and too far away to be anyone else. Louie's men were here.

"Approach slowly." Spy instructed. "We do not want to startle them while they still have hostages."

"And after we have them back?" Heavy inquired.

"We kill Louie's men and go back to New Mexico."

Demo kept his eye trained on the car as they approached. As their own headlights began illuminating the scene, he could pick out a figure leaning into the backseat of the car. Heavy cut the engine but left the lights on, and they all climbed out of the van.

"Gentlemen!" Spy called. "I believe you have something of mine!"

"Ah, crap!" One of the men straightened up and hit his head on the roof of the car. As he pulled out, Demo could see he was just a lad, not much older than Scout. He certainly wasn't dressed like a gangster in his jeans and ratty jacket. "Just uh, stay there! Give us a sec! Dave, what's the matter with him?"

Demo frowned, but Heavy set aside caution and stormed over to the car. He grabbed the kid but the shirtfront and shoved him aside. Heavy leaned into the car and reappeared with a body.

"Engineer!" Demo hurried up to the big man, ready to help if it wasn't too late. Engie was laying still, brows scrunched in pain. Demo could see the bandages and the blood. It was serious. Engie stirred. He didn't open his eyes, but he shuddered in Heavy's arms.

"Medic..." It was barely more than a wheeze. Demo's scowl deepened and Heavy growled.

"Hold little man." He dropped Engineer into Demo's arms and spun on the kid picking himself off the floor. "You hurt Engineer."

"No!" Leave it to Heavy to scare the living daylights out of men and mobsters. "Honest, it was Louie! Barry- he did the bandages. We gave him some aspirin too, I swear-" Heavy had him by the collar now. "No, no, man he said to tell you about the armadillos! He said if we wanted out we could take care of them for you!"

Heavy looked like he was about to crush the kid while his cohort watched, frozen, from the other side of the car.

"A moment, Heavy, if you please." Spy stepped forward and Heavy reluctantly dropped the kid onto the concrete. "I would like to see what he has to say."

His companion hopped out of the car and helped him to his feet. "He's telling the truth. Your Truckie told us to tell you we'd take care of the armadillos and you'd know what that meant. Louie shot him, and the painkillers I gave him were strong enough to knock him out. We did everything we could."

Demo held Engie carefully, checking to see if he could verify the kid's story. The leg had been bandaged carefully, if sloppily, and Engie wasn't screaming in pain. It could be worse. Still, he wasn't in a good way. He was shivering and unresponsive. They needed to wrap this up and get him back to Medic.

"I think I understand what he is saying." Spy studied the pair huddled in front of the car. They were young, too young and too soft to be criminals very high in the pecking order. "So, you want a way out of Louie's operation?"

"Yeah." The one Heavy had nearly mauled spoke up first. He seemed like the more talkative of the two. "This..." He looked to his companion. "We didn't think it would be like this."

"And what'd you think it'd be, boyo?" Demo snapped. A couple of fools, these kids.

The quiet one shook his head. "We didn't think. Dave's Mom hurt her back real bad, and well, you can't that kind of money doing anything legal. We had to try something."

Spy studied the pair in the headlights. They could prove useful if they were smart enough to follow directions. "Would you like to take care of the armadillos for me? I can promise nothing, but if all goes to plan you'll not have to worry about Louie, or the money."

They looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "You think we're crazy? 'Course we want out!" Dave waved his hands. "We didn't sign up for shootin' Army Vets and kidnapping people! That's messed up!"

Demo looked down at Engie again, wondering just what kinds of yarns were spinning back at Louie's headquarters. "I'm takin' him to the van." He addressed Spy and Heavy. "He's shakin' like a leaf."

Spy nodded. "Go. I will handle this. Gentlemen, here is what you must tell your boss."

Demo jogged back to the camper and maneuvered Engie through the open door and onto Sniper's little bed. Though much too small for the Australian and his legs, the little bunk was about the right size for their Engineer. Demo grabbed a couple of blankets from where Sniper stored them and bundled Engie up. The lad might have a fever or summat that made him shake so. Demo wished he knew a bit more about first aid. All he was typically good for was mixing drugs for the Doc, but they didn't have anything here on top of the fact that he didn't know what those boys had given him.

Engie groaned and started trying to shift the blankets. Demo kept him steady. It was important for the lad to keep warm. He was having some kind of bad reaction. The pressure only made Engie trash harder, trying to get loose.

"Easy lad, easy! It's me! You're in Sniper's camper and you're safe. We're taking you to the Doc real soon."

His eyelids started to flutter. Demo squeezed his shoulder gently. "That's it, take your time. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Finally, Engie managed to get his eyes open. "Demo?" He frowned. "Demo what're you doin'?"

"Steady on. I'm watchin' over you while Spy an' Heavy take care of something right quick. They'll be done in no time." Engineer visibly relaxed. "That's the ticket, lad. You rest up an' I'll tell you everything later."

The camper shook as Spy and Heavy reentered. "How is he?"

"Resting proper, now." Demo noticed the change in Engie's breathing. "He's out like a light."

"Back to the hotel. I hope Medic has not chosen to continue imbibing."

"Not tonight." Heavy said. "He will have work cut out for him."

* * *

 

Medic had the mother of all headaches, but he was alive. There wasn't a _thing_ his medi-gun could do for him at this stage, but he'd gone and smuggled it up from the car just in case. Soldier had barricaded them in 205. That was fine. What he didn't like was Soldier's method of enforcing his curfew.

"If you do not open the door this instant, I will tell everyone about the incident with the bees!" Medic pounded on the bathroom door, not knowing whether to be insulted or flattered that Soldier had left him all of the room's pillows.

"Those reptiles cannot harm me!" Soldier yelled back. "Go ahead! Tell everyone how I took on the whole hive single-handed!"

"That is only because your other hand was swollen beyond use!" Medic thought about shouldering the door open, but they were already drawing attention to themselves without adding property damage to the list. He had to be smart about this. "What if, next time the BLU Medic slices you open, I hold you and try to push the intestines back in by hand before using the medi-gun?"

There was quiet. Suddenly Soldier's voice was a lot closer. "You would really do it?"

"I would." Medic tried to sound more sincere than he felt. Sometimes bargaining was the only way to deal with Soldier. "I would even curse at the sky, screaming about how you were so young, cut down in the prime of your life-"

The door opened immediately. "You may exit the vault. Any articles of clothing left inside _will_ be confiscated."

Sometimes he didn't know whether to laugh or shoot them all himself. He collected the best of the pillows and was surprised to find that Soldier hadn't turned the room into some kind of bizarre fort. It actually looked _cleaner_ than it had before. The only odd thing was the couch in front of the door.

 "Do not touch any of my defenses." Soldier warned. "I have cow-proofed the living area. We will be sleeping in a T-formation to ward off attack. I will take the foot of the bed so I can strangle the attackers as they enter."

As, surprisingly tactically sound as that was, Medic didn't have time for it. "I will not touch the 'defenses', but you will be moving the couch so I can check on Frau Spotlight. It has been too quiet over there... I would hate to find Pyro has incinerated her."

"Stars and Stripes! We left Smokey Joe alone with a lady!" Soldier began shoving the couch. "He has _no idea_ how to French-braid _or_ correctly apply nail-varnish! Quickly! You take over his position while I instruct him in the art of nail-related combat."

Medic knocked lightly on the door of 204. When there was no reply, Soldier cracked it open just a hair. There was a wad of blankets on the bed that they could only assume was their lady teammate. Pyro was lying facedown on the floor, but lifted the mask to stare at them once the door opened.

"Ms. Spotlight." Soldier stage-whispered. "We have come to change the guard. While you are within your rights to have broken Pyro's legs, I ask that you refrain from killing our Medic. He has promised to hold my guts in and yell at the sky the next time I am losing my intestines."

A tousled head poked out of the blankets. "Boys, what're you doing up? What time is it?" She squinted at the bedside clock. "If you're wakin' me up at 5:46 AM without a good reason, I'll tan both your hides."

"We came to check on you." Medic interjected before they were both killed. "See if you were still feeling the effects of the poison."

She blinked at them. "No, just feel like I'm hungover."

Medic grimaced in sympathy. "You very well might be. I have some tablets in my kit." He kept a stash handy in case Demo talked him into a night of drinking. Medic was sad to say he never quite learned his lesson. He turned to fetch his kit and had a head-on collision. Staggering back, he put a hand to his nose and hissed. Soldier spun around.

"I see you maggots have returned from the store! Where are the groceries and Demoman? Did he eat all of them, or were they both lost to our four-legged enemy?"

Spy had a hand to his forehead. He scowled, straightened up, and addressed the room. "We need to pack our things and leave immediately. The gang knows our location, and they will likely be sending armed men at any moment."

Medic recovered from his clash with Spy's forehead. "I take it things have gone poorly." He was joined in the doorway by their Spotlight, who was still draped in a blanket.

"Where's Jeremy? Did you find him?" She was wide awake now. Something on Spy's face told her it wasn't going to be quite so easy. It never was.

"We know his location, as you discovered. We have also arranged for Louie to meet with the Big Man himself." Spy gave Medic a pointed look.

Medic gave him one back. "I do not care much for theatre, Spy." He crossed his arms. "What will this meeting entail?"

"We simply need to distract the gang while our second team goes in and retrieves the hostages. Simplicity itself." He put a hand to his cigarette case and paused. "Though first, I require your assistance in Sniper's van." Spy moved aside to allow Medic's exit, and looked at Soldier. "How quickly can you pack your things and be ready to leave? The enemy is approaching."

"I am already packed, as I have brought nothing but a shovel and my comrades."

"Excellent. Please make sure Pyro is packed as well. Perhaps you could show him how-"

"Already on it, crepe-face! Smokey Joe, we are exiting the hotel now. Up an at 'em, those broken legs aren't going to walk-it-off themselves!"

There was a method to this madness, but Spotlight still wasn't used to the kind of craziness that came with nine mercenaries. And Spy wasn't telling her something. "Alright, spit it out."

He stiffened, caught in the act. Spy moved into the room and half-closed the door. "We must leave at once. I have set a plan in motion to retrieve your son and the bushman." He glanced at the window, where he could see the barest flecks of rain against the glass. "If you would pack your things, I will move Engineer's suitcase downstairs. There is much to do and not very much time to do it."

She studied him, fixing him with a gaze sharp enough to slice right through that mask of his. He wasn't giving her all the details. He wasn't giving _anyone_ details. But, he hadn't failed her yet. They were so close to getting her boy back...

"You're tellin' me everything in the car, got that?" She broke away to get after her packing. "Everything. I don't care what you found out there. I'm hearing it."

"Very well." Spy moved to the doorway. "Soon, you shall know all. We leave in ten minutes."

* * *

 

Medic arrived at the van with his medi-gun. Spy's request had really only one implication. He opened the door to the camper and found that it was already near capacity. They had found the Engineer, but in worse shape than even Medic had expected. Demo was holding him against his chest while Heavy examined the bleeding wound. When Medic arrived, slightly damp and looking confused, their pair of them sought to fill him in.

"Is through-and-through, Doctor." Heavy indicated the bullet wound. "Nothing inside."

"He's wriggling too much to let him lie. The boys what patched up 'is leg gave 'im something, but they didnae know what, and neither do we." Engie groaned and Demo got ready for another fight. Thankfully, he stayed still.

Medic maneuvered his way in front of the little bed. Heavy helped him get a good look at the wound, while Demo spoke to the patient quietly.

"This is nothing the medi-gun cannot fix." Medic applied the beam at once. "I am more concerned about the drugs. You say he was given something?"

Demo nodded. "The boys what brought him out told us they tried to help 'im. I don't know how much good it did."

"I see." Medic monitored the skin and muscle as both knitted back together under the red beam. Soon, all that was left to indicate incident was the hole in Engineer's overalls. "There. He should be as fit as his fiddle now. Although, whatever is in his system will need to work its way back out. He will need a monitor, and my services will be needed elsewhere today."

"I'll do it." Demo volunteered. "Ugly as this mug is, Heavy's more intimidatin' if it comes to a confrontation. And Spy has plans for Pyro and Soldier."

"Very well. I will leave it to you." Medic let the beam go on a bit longer before switching off the gun. "Heavy, will you be riding with me or here in the van?"

"I am driving van to safe zone, then driving Engineer's truck. Spy does not trust Soldier to stay on the road."

"A valid point, yes." Medic picked up his things. "I will finish packing. Spy is determined to check out quickly."

Back in the lobby, a significantly more put-together Spotlight was beaming at the desk clerk. "Sorry to change checkout plans so quickly, hon, but the bride's mother caught a stomach bug and we have to move things up." The clerk made perfectly sympathetic noises and tried to speed things up for the sweet woman that was going to be trapped with all these idiots. What a bachelor party...

Checkout was completed and she met Spy at the Engineer's truck. It was drizzling now, but she could care less. They were going to get her son back.

"Ready, _ma petite?_ " Spy had pulled a tarp out from behind the seats and was carefully covering Engineer's suitcase.

"Yep." She handed her luggage up and Spy stowed it with the rest. "Now start talkin'. What are we about to go do?"

Spy opened the driver's side door for her and walked around. "We are putting on another little show. Medic is playing the Boss, and you will be reprising your role as the Dealer. The aim is to cut out the middle man."

"So," she started the engine, "we're not gonna turn them down easy?"

"No." Spy looked out the window, a dangerous tilt to his shoulders, "If I have my way, this will be very painful for them."


	13. Chapter 13

The whole convoy stopped at the closest fast-food joint. Demo, Engie, and Heavy were staying in Sniper's van while the others got lunch and heard Spy's plan for the first time. Spotlight made sure Pyro's meal had a toy before the firebug disappeared completely.

"Pyro's part is straightforward, it is of no consequence." Spy waved his hand as the rest of them sat around a table. No one was out and about in this weather, it seemed. The restaurant was practically deserted.

"Now then. We each have a role to play in this if we are going to be successful. Doctor, you, Pyro, and I will arrive as representatives of this gang. We will go to meet Louie Hallison and his men in order to discuss terms. Before we get too far along in negotiations- Yes?"

Medic had raised his hand. "And I am to be playing this mob boss character?"

"Yes. From what we have been able to gather, you are the much-feared head of the organization. I do not know _why_ Sniper chose to describe you, but it is not worth pondering in my opinion."

"Very well. Continue."

"Before we get too far along in the negotiations, Spotlight will- Yes?"

"What are my motivations? Am I some sort of conniving ringleader in the pursuit of money, or a maniacal sort aiming to bring only chaos and destruction?"

Spy rubbed his temple with one hand. "It is up to you."

"I see. Go on."

"Thank you. Before the negotiations- _what!?"_

Medic lowered his hand. "May I dismember one of them- just an arm or something- to really set the mood for this character? I think it would bring out the sadistic, inner turmoil-"

"You can dismember as many as you please when we are done! Before we reach that point, however, Spotlight and Heavy will interrupt the deal with a distraction. Soldier, this is important so listen to me."

"I have not listened to a word you have said thus far and I refuse to do so now."

Spy was about a second away from murdering Soldier right here at the table when Spotlight intervened.

"Are you sure, hon? It sounds really important."

Soldier paused. "Very well. Continue with your French nonsense."

Spy bit back some profanity. "Thank. You. Gentlemen." He took a breath. "Soldier, you will need to destroy as much of the office building as is possible without touching the portables."

"This is where the cows have established their base?"

"Yes, hon." Spotlight jumped in before Spy could have an aneurysm. "And they're holding these fine American portables hostage."

"I will kill every cow in sight and dismantle their communist establishment."

" _Wonderful_." Spy looked like he could use a drink. "This will throw them into confusion. Spotlight, you will demand the code, which will force them to bring out Scout and Sniper."

"And then I can dismember them?"

"And then you can dismember them."

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light from outside one of the windows. The outdoor trashcan was a flaming wreck and Pyro was bouncing a propane tank back and forth like a beach ball.

"We need to leave immediately."

* * *

 

He was in trouble, but he didn't care. Sniper leered at ol' Brass Frank and settled back in his chair. "No idea, mate." The mob man glared at him silently. After questioning him at length, there didn't seem to be anything left to say. Sniper thought the man would _never_ shut up. It was all numbers and places and names Sniper didn't care to make up. He'd thought this one through pretty well.

"And you can't beat out of the kid somethin' I don't know anyways. 'Less you just want a lie, cause that's all I've got left to tell."

Frank left the room without another word. Figures. Sniper tried to stretch out the stiffness in his elbows and heard one of them click. He rolled his neck around. There was a lot of tension built up from sitting in the same position for so long. Usually he had a little wiggle room in the perch, but there was none of that here.

They’d separated him and Scout a few hours after Truckie went upstairs. For all he knew, the kid was still in the storm cellar. If he had any luck left, they’d all three meet up there again before something worse went down. There was no mistaking the sound of the gunshot he’d heard earlier, and Sniper could only hope that it hadn’t been for Scout or Truckie.

Maybe the best thing to do was catch a nap. Frank was much too angry to talk to him anymore for a while. The man could sure hold a grudge. All of them could. Must be why they hadn't given up looking for him on the side all these years. Sniper slouched as far as he could in the seat and fell asleep. It was easy, after being awake for so long.

He never liked being woken up. Preferred to wake up naturally or at least with an alarm he'd set him self.

Sniper _really_ didn't like being awoken by a falling sensation. His eyes snapped open, and he saw Louie with his foot on the front of the chair before he hit the floor. What the fall lacked in height it made up for in energy. Sniper hit hard, and it took him a moment to recollect himself.

"'S'at really necessary?" He groaned.

"Yeah, cause I don't like bein' lied to, Mundy. Frank told me you didn't know anything, but your little buddy had plenty to share."

Sniper's brow creased, and he tried to see Louie's expression over his own knees. The floor was a really uncomfortable place to put an upended chair. Louie seemed to sense this, and the dumbfounded expression on Sniper's face made him chuckle.

"Or you're that stupid. I knew you weren't all that sharp Mundy, but please. Not like I need to ask you anything else. The kid told me plenty. For instance, I know about the _Chateau de Sable._ "

Try as he might, he couldn't bite back a grin. Louie's face fell. "What's so funny, hot shot?"

It occurred to him that this might get Scout in trouble. Sniper kept the smirk on. "All you've got's the name of the organization. And 'ere I was worried the kid actually knew something."

Louie bought that and moved on. "It's all I need for this meeting I've got set up with the Big Man."

Sniper couldn't hide his surprise. "He's _here?_ "

"Yep. Had some of the boys meet the enforcer. Took your pal Hoss back with him. Though, if you ask me, he wasn't looking too good. I suppose a bullet'll do that to you."

Struggling to keep his anger in check, Sniper attempted to turn the chair on its side. That's just what Louie wanted, for him to give him an earful just like Scout had. But Sniper knew better. As furious as he was, he knew if Spy had Truckie back, everything was fine. For all the pomp, the backstabber was efficient. He'd get everything taken care of. Heck, Sniper wouldn't be surprised to see Truckie leading the rescue party, guns a'blazin'.

"Better him than me."

"Ooh, you're still a cold one, Mundy. I bet you practice this kinda thing in the mirror. Nah, I got you read to rights. It'd eat you alive if you found out I'd killed your little buddy, wouldn't it?" Louie kicked the chair on its side. At least he'd given him that much. "But it doesn't matter. Cause with this deal opening up, I'm gonna finally get a piece of the action. I'm getting my share of the pie and you're not gonna stand in the way of that again."

Louie started walking towards the door.

"You just gonna leave me here on the floor?"

"Yep."

Sniper was alone in the portable again. He knocked his head against the carpet in frustration. Just what had he gotten them all into?

* * *

 

The rain was coming down heavily. Water feel in sheets on the three windshields, smacking the glass almost horizontally with the force of the gale.

"I take it back." Medic mumbled. "I am not grateful for the thunderstorm."

They continued forward slowly, maintaining a sight line between all three sets of brake lights. It was perilous weather, and according to Demo, it was only going to get worse.

"Picked up a newspaper this morning." He commented to Heavy as they drove. "They're expecting it to get nasty."

"Hopefully, we will not have to drive in this much longer. According to map, we are nearing the county line."

Fortunately, the inclement weather would provide cover for their approach. Spy indicated a building at the end of the street. It was another development, but something standing on its own and clearly not Louie's headquarters.

He hopped out of the truck and returned moments later with a duffel bag. Spotlight recognized it immediately.

"That's Jeremy's! Where'd you get it, Sniper's van?"

"Yes." Spy said. "Heavy found it last night. Aha, this will do." He pulled out a pair of black pants and handed them to her.

"I'm supposed to wear my son's pants?"

"It is part of the disguise. Engineer's torso is too broad for any of his shirts to fit, so the next best-"

"Frenchie. This is real flatterin' and all, but my son's a stick, and I've popped out eight kids."

Spy stopped with a hand still in the duffel bag. She could see the gears turning there. It seemed she'd thrown a wrench into his plan.

"Y'know what? Gimme a sec." She hopped out the driver's side door, and hurried back in with a bundle of cloth. "It's all gonna be wet so who cares?"

Spy glanced back at the truckbed for Engineer's suitcase, and when he turned around, she was wearing a black skirt instead of her brown one, which sat on the seat between them.

"Now for the best part." She closed the space between them and started loosening his tie.

" _Ma belle,_ now is not the best time-"

"Gimme the jacket too."

"Oh."

Spy saw where this was really going and reluctantly parted with his jacket. She tied the tie with an expert hand and soon had the jacket done up as well.

"And what am _I_ supposed to wear then, hmm?"

She rolled her eyes and fished around in the duffel bag. Spy cringed. Not only did Scout have no taste, but he seriously doubted whether or not the boy had bothered to wash anything before he packed it.

"Jeremy owns _one_ shirt I like. He wouldn't wear it on the plane, so I bet you- aha!" She fished out a button-up shirt wrapped in plastic. It was charcoal grey, with a tiny spotted pattern. "You put this on and it'll be perfect."

For the sake of the act, Spy picked up the plastic and turned the shirt over in his hands. It was very well taken care of, if rarely worn. He supposed it would fit. His Spotlight was a genius, but the things she was putting him through...

"Very well." He began unbuttoning his own shirt and noticed her watching out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't mind me." She leaned one elbow through the top hole of the steering wheel casually. "Just enjoying the opening act."

He pretended to ignore the comment and was silently thankful for both the cover of darkness and of his mask. For the first time, he could sympathize with the poor Engineer. His cheeks were positively scarlet as he began slipping on Scout's shirt.

He was nearly finished with the buttons when someone knocked on the driver's side window. Spy jumped, and Spotlight accidentally set off the car horn.

It was Heavy. Spy opened the door.

"Out." Heavy said. "Is time to change cars. Doctor is waiting with little man."

Spy cast a sidelong look at Scout's bag before snatching up a hoodie and throwing it over his head in a futile attempt to keep dry. Heavy took his place and shut the door.

"Jacket looks better on you than Spy."

She grinned. "Thanks, pal. You ready to go get these guys?"

"Heavy is ready." He replied. "They will not be."


	14. Chapter 14

Medic's VW left the van and the truck behind as the trio headed in for the meeting. The doctor had not, to Spy's surprise, packed his uniform but something surprisingly formal. Despite the rain and the maniacal grin on his face, he was starting to look the part. 

"And you are sure you can stay in character?"

Medic squinted against the rain. "Yes, yes. It is not so hard. Look menacing and let you do most of the talking, be surprised when Frau Spotlight arrives, and maim them all horribly afterwards. This acting thing is not so difficult as you make it sound, Spy." 

"Very well." Spy didn't have his disguise kit, his cigarettes, or his tie. There was nothing to occupy his hands except the handle on the ceiling, but Medic took offense every time he reached for it. The more he thought about it, the more Sniper stood out as the least obnoxious driver. He followed road laws, rarely listened to anything objectionable, and never spoke a word to his passengers. 

The major drawback there being he did it all in his _disgusting van._  Engineer was a very close second. 

The road was muddy, but somehow Medic was managing to tackle it at 80 kph. Spy gripped the underside of his seat for support. Unsurprisingly, Pyro was enjoying the trip. The firebug bounced up and down in the back seat clapping and cheering. This was all one big deadly game. 

Spy was categorizing the million things that could go wrong. It was always best to plan for the worst. Of course, they likely outclassed any of the thugs Hallison had hired. Based on the descriptions provided by the two fledgling mobsters, there were very few men to really be worried about. Louie Hallison was one. Brass Frank Busch was another. They apparently had the most to gain in the revenge department. Both had been part of the original gang that Sniper double-crossed. That put them at the top of Spy's hit list. 

"Turn in 'ere. This is where we set up the meeting." 

He had been thorough with that pair of miscreants. They gave him the entire layout of the site, including where to go find the prisoners. Both were alive and well for the time being. They could only hope this stayed the case. As long as Hallison toiled under the delusion that there was a happy ending for him in this, the better. 

Medic pulled up under an awning, so at the least they could all exit the car out of the rain. Spy got out and began to survey the area. Odds were the headlight shad been spotted. Sooner or later, someone would come for them. Before any of the gang appeared, Pyro shuffled up to his side and tugged on his sleeve. 

"Rnngrrh?" 

Spy tried to process that. Alas, he was not one of the few that would make sense of the mumbles. "We will be going shortly. It is very important that this goes well. Our teammates are still in danger." 

Pyro huffed. " _Rnngrrh!_  Mpph huddah mrph mph mrr!"

He was about to explain that he really, _really_  had no clue what Pyro was saying when two men appeared out of the rain. "We will discuss it later. Right now, you must help us, or we won't make it out alive, much less our teammates." 

That, Pyro seemed to understand. Soon, the axe was out and readied. The pair stopped short. It seemed that Pyro struck fear into the hearts of all. Spy took the opportunity to regain command of the situation. 

"Gentlemen. We are here to discuss some business with your boss. Kindly direct us to his office, and you may keep your heads on your shoulders." 

Now _that_  scared them silly. The one on the left was visibly shaken. 

"Right this way, sir. Sirs? Sirs and uh..." He did a quick once over of Pyro. "Sirs. This way."

"Make this quick. I really must get back to my patient before he dies. It would be such a shame to miss the show." Medic _had_  brought his gloves, however, and snapped them for emphasis. Spy fought the urge to roll his eyes. This was working. There was no need to overdo it. 

The trio followed their guides around the side of the building and through a haphazard set of walkways designed to keep the sidewalks mostly dry. That was how they arrived at the temporary main office: mostly dry. Pyro's breathing had unnerved their guides, and the men took off for the far door the moment they set foot into the while-walled portable. 

One of them knocked. "Boss, they're here." He was trying to play it cool and failing. In the light of the interior, Spy could see the man sweat. Good. Intimidation was half the game. Hopefully, Louie Hallison wouldn't be too cocky to acknowledge the threat of the axe-toting maniac. 

Spy was mentally preparing himself. He ran over the plan as he'd outlined it with young Dave and Barry last evening:

_"We'll tell him you've got twice as many people in town. Three times as many!" Dave, for one, seemed eager to repent of his actions. Spy had learned they were responsible for the Engineer's abduction in the first place, and had to stop Heavy from trying to murder them afresh. They hadn't hurt him then, as evidenced by the lack of additional injuries on the Engineer. All the blood in the truck belonged to Dave._

_"I'll do the talking." Barry interjected. "Louie seems to think I'm more reliable." Spy had the same opinion. Of the pair of them, Barry seemed the most level-headed. Of course, the two young men had embarked on a fool's errand in order to do something noble, but Spy could not comment on the common sense of the desperate._

_Dave nodded. "OK, that's a good idea. He doesn't care much about me, so long as I pick up the mail and get the right brand of beer. Barry's the guy who knows drugs."_

_"Who knows drugs a little bit." Barry corrected. "Didn't go to med school proper, remember? Anyway, he'll find me a touch more credible. I'll tell him whatever you like."_

_"Excellent." Spy pulled out his cigarette case. "You may start by telling him how I was not pleased to find you had only brought me one of my men. We may have to... dirty you up a bit to sell this."_

_Dave responded with a grin. He turned and socked Barry in the jaw._

_"What the heck, man!" Barry recovered and slugged Dave in the gut._

_"Oof- easy, man! Just... doing what he suggested."_

_Spy's lip twitched, but he pushed down the laughter. These two were very much like Scout. Amicable, stupid, and quick to action. But, between them, Spy had confidence they could get a job done._

_"That can wait until after we have outlined the rest of the plan." Spy gestured with his cigarette. "You will tell your boss that I am coming with my boss, and we expect to be given what is ours. At that point, we will arrange for him to meet with the dealer. This will never happen. Louie will likely bring out Scout- the younger hostage- and try to bargain. You will need to stay with the other one if you do not wish to be shot, stabbed, or torn limb from limb."_

_"He'll be in the storm cellar." Barry said. "That's where Louie's been keeping them. We'll wait in there and watch him while you do... whatever it is y'all are doing above ground."_

_"Excellent." Spy tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it underfoot. "And where is this storm cellar?"_

Everything was running smoothly so far. Soon, they would meet up with Hallison and Scout, and the boy's mother would be put at ease. Then, they could kill everyone here and go home. After a few more desperate knocks, the door at the far end of the portable opened. Out stepped the man that could only be Louie Hallison. Spy involuntarily clenched his fists. This man had utterly ruined his vacation plans, distressed his _rasion d'etre_ , and deprived him the pleasure of a nice evening out. 

Behind him, another figure as massive as Heavy exited. Spy froze. His eye tracked the newcomer with growing frustration. The man was dragging with him a hatless, bloodied Sniper. Not Scout. _Sniper._  

"We meet at last!" Hallison spread his arms wide. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Louie, head of this operation, and this is Brass Frank. He's _my_  enforcer."

"Indeed?" Spy straightened up and put on his most pompous of airs. "And does Brass Frank know 'ow much time he is wasting with that…" He gestured towards Sniper. "...Australian reject? I sincerely hope you 'ave been torturing him for _fun_  and not for information. It is unwise to waste good torture on fools." 

Sniper managed to look both relieved and insulted. Spy looked him over and was hardly surprised at what he found. The bushman looked like someone had dragged him behind a truck for several miles, given him a shower, and then beat him senseless. He was more disheveled than usual. Clearly, Louie's men had a high enough opinion of him to seek information this way. Sniper seemed to have sold his importance well. 

"Oh it was fun, believe you me." Louie maintained his grin. "I've got a bone to pick with Mundy here. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Spy returned the smile. "So long as he can survey the guns, we have no issue with the condition of the rest of him. But, his young companion..." His expression darkened. "I have already experienced the dealer's wrath. I have no desire to do it again." 

Louie spread his hands in a hospitable gesture that managed to look more threatening than welcoming. "The kid's fine, and I'm happy to accommodate him. My boys told me how sore you were that I didn't deliver _everything_  last night, but what can I say? The kid's an insurance policy. I know you know there's no deal without him. Why else would I have kept him around?" 

Spy didn't like where this was headed, but Louie continued. "What I'd like is a deal. This is my turf you fellas are moving in on. I think it's reasonable to expect a finder's fee."

"A finder's fee?" Medic spoke up from the back. Spy let his surprise show on his face. He stepped out of the way in deference to his 'superior'. Medic moved forward with purpose. Pyro was right on his heels. "You..." he started chuckling, "...you think you deserve _compensation_  for interrupting my vacation with this? _Ooh, hoo hoo,_ that's rich! I should have you incinerated!" 

Pyro started edging forward, but Medic held up a hand. "Patience, Mien Freund. You may have some kindling yet. Now, as I was saying," his eyes roved the mobsters in front of him, "you have disrupted my weekend. This has already put me in a bad mood, but if you are threatening to ruin my business operations, you have another thing coming."

The timing could not have been better if Spy had a hand on the plunger himself. Just as Medic finished speaking, there was a loud booming from outside. It was no flash of lightning. Spy could see the red tinge of flame reflecting off the window pane. Excellent. 

That explosion was another cue. Right on time, the door burst inward. She had been expecting to see her son among the men in the room. There was no longer a need to fake the fury on her face. 

"You _idiot!"_ She crossed the room at a heavy march, looking to the men in the room like death itself ready to pluck out their souls. So distracted were they by her drenched wrath, Spy himself barely noticed Heavy enter with a pair of unconscious (or dead) mobsters. His attention was focused on the man in the hot seat. Spotlight reared back her arm and slapped Medic full across the face. The whole room chilled. 

Spy's jaw dropped. He could not believe what he was seeing. The situation was already charged, but this was quite a deviation from the plan. What on earth was she doing!? Either she knew something he didn't, which was highly unlikely, or she was going off book. The latter option could get them all killed. But, so stark was the anger on her face that Spy dared not interrupt. He'd rather she killed Medic than him. 

"I thought you said you had this covered!" Both hands were now balled in fists at her side. She looked every bit the murderous arms dealer she was supposed to be, even soaked head to toe. "You said he'd do this job for you, and then we'd let him take a spin at _my_  family business! But no! You can't do anything right can you? If it's not ordering mercs around or pullin' ribs like teeth, you're _utterly worthless!_ "

Everyone in the room had their feet glued to the floor. Nobody was going anywhere; all were frozen in the Spotlight’s glare. 

Medic was the first to recover his power of speech. "I... don't- Everything was going to plan." It was a weak recovery, but Spotlight was working it like a pro. 

"According to plan?" She screeched. "So letting some _moron_  drive our boy on a job and letting him get picked up with these hacks was all a part of your plan?"

Spy was going to have to pick his jaw up off the floor sometime, but he couldn't bring himself to move. _Our boy?_  What on earth was she doing? 

"I..." Medic stumbled. "He... It should have worked! Do not blame me! Blame the Sniper and these..." He gestured uselessly. "He was meant to arrive to you just as we arranged." 

"Should've never left him with you!" Spotlight took a step away from Medic and threw her hands in the air. "My boy could've been in the big leagues by now, but here he is, stuck in Dumpsville, Texas with a bunch of rodeo clowns!" She whirled on Louie. "And _you!_  You better bring him out right now, or a couple dead men and a wrecked building are gonna be the least of your problems, pal!" 

Nobody in the room moved. Nobody breathed. 

"Holy dooley." 

Sniper's awestruck exclamation seemed to break the spell. Louie stayed right where he was, but addressed the pair of dangerous people in front of him. "Please, ma'am, sir, there's no need to get riled up. We're happy to accommodate you, and the _Chateau de Sable."_

They froze, the three of them and Heavy near the door. The _what?_

Medic snorted. He quickly put a hand up to his face, but it was hard to hide the ear-splitting grin. Spy, who was equal parts amused and alarmed, quickly cut in. "So, you've determined our identity at last-" Medic was having a harder time keeping it together. 

Spy pushed past him. "Then you must know what it means. _Chateau de Sable-_ " Medic guffawed. "-The House of Burial. I assure you, trifling with us was a mistake, one you can plainly-"

There was no salvaging this. Medic burst out laughing, doubled over. Now, all eyes were on him. He was laughing so hard he could scarcely breathe, hiccups punctuating the few breaths he managed to take. Spy felt a cold sweat overtake him. This was it. They were done. 

" _Chateau de-_ " Medic wheezed. "-Oh, you are kidding me! Ha, _that_  is what we are called? _Chateau de Sable!"_ He broke down again. His three companions and Sniper could only watch in horror. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louie was quickly turning red. He snatched Sniper from Frank's grip by the collar. "Why's he laughing? What's it mean?"

Medic hooted and rested his hands on his knees. Tears were streaming down his face. " _Chateau de Sable_ -" he choked out, "-is _sand castle_ , you... you- _Ah ha ha_!" 

Spy knew a failed con when he saw one. They'd just been uncloaked in the enemy base. Time for Plan B. 

"Pyro," he addressed the firebug. "Do try not to kill Sniper, but these are the men that took our friend the Engineer." 

The shriek that burst from the mask was enough to give Medic pause, if only for a moment. Heavy had come to his side and was helping to hold him up while he held his aching sides. He moved the crying doctor out of the way. There was a fire axe coming through. 

" _Huddah hrrn mrr Rnngrrh!"_  

Spy rushed over to Spotlight's side and pulled her towards the door. He took out his revolver and fired at the men coming through. Apparently, the noise had been enough to alert them. That, or whatever Soldier was doing was destructive enough for them to seek shelter with their boss. 

Heavy followed them towards the exit with Medic slung under one arm. The doctor was in better control of his mirth, but not in the right frame of mind to have anticipated a quick exit. 

"I was interested to see where you were going with that!" Spy yelled over the wind. "It sounded like quite an _extraordinary_  story."

"I'll tell you the rest sometime!" They ducked under the awning, which was no longer a help against this strong a gale. The sky was green and bits of hail were sprinkled across the grass. "Dangerous man, dangerous woman, plenty of intrigue... Where's Jeremy? You said he'd be in there!" 

Spy turned back and found Pyro exiting with a bloodied axe in one hand, and Sniper draped over the other shoulder. That was that. Now, they had to locate Scout and contend with any leftover mobsters. 

"The storm cellar! If Soldier is done laying waste to the main building, he will meet us there." Spy thought he could find the way based on Barry and Dave's descriptions. But, it was becoming harder and harder to see.

"This way!" Spy pulled her down the path. Heavy, Medic, and Pyro caught up with them quickly. It seemed like they were in the clear until a high, steady wail echoed across the complex. 

"Is that the wind?" Medic yelled from under Heavy's arm

"No." Spotlight paled. "I know what that is." 

Spy recognized it too. " _Run!"_


	15. Chapter 15

Demo backed the van up next to the sturdiest building he could find. The wind was whipping something fierce, and he feared the camper might topple. It would be bad news if they had to find a way to right it in a hurry. He could hear Soldier detonating the charges he'd prepared. Good. It was always a little touch and go with rainy weather, let alone the fact that it was _Soldier_  at the controls. 

He put the van in park and cut the engine. These were hardly ideal driving conditions without the battery dying on them. Sniper's van was nice enough on the inside, if one ignored the jarate and magazine litter. 

Engineer was rolled up on the bed. He'd slept through the whole ride over. Under Demo's watchful eye, he rested in relative peace. But, the inclement weather wasn't doing them any favors. A simultaneous flash of lightning and roar of thunder shook the van and startled Engineer awake. Demo dodged the magazines to the back of the van. 

"Where's this?" Engie looked around with glassy eyes. Unfocused. "Where's Spy? He was just... Demo!" 

The Scotsman established his presence by helping Engie to sit up. Poor man was still having a hard time. "Aye, lad, take it easy. You've had a rough night." 

Engie shook his head. "How'd I get in here? Where's my truck?" It seemed like he was trying to put together the events of last night. Demo needed to gauge how much he remembered and fill him in slowly. Any sort of surprise might send him into a relapse. Medic was worried enough about the drugs. There might be a good reason why. 

"What's the last thing you remember, laddie?" 

"The truck, I-" Engie scrunched his brow. "Not the truck. A knife fight in the truck. And..." He looked down at his hand and found it was still there. Both of them. Dave and Barry had been courteous enough to reattach it. "Guess it's still here." 

So far so good. Demo waited until Engie was ready to keep going. 

"And then... Sniper and Scout. We- No, it was just me. They made me call Spy. I remember hearing my own voice." Engie stopped. He looked at Demo, who was still watching him expectantly. "That's it. I don't remember getting here, or... Did we get Sniper and Scout back?"

It seemed like it was up to Demo to get him up to speed. "The rest of the lads are after 'em as we speak. You sure you don't remember anything else?"

Engie shook his head. "Not a thing. What happened?" At the look on Demo's face, he frowned. "Don't do that. Whatever's got me laid up in Sniper's van, I need to know. Ain't gonna faint. I die a dozen times a day, y'know."

Fair enough. Demo sighed. "All right. You were drugged twice, shot, 'n bandaged up by a couple o' green little mobsters. Medic put you back together, and you've been out the whole time we've had you back. Spy an' all the others are after Sniper and Scout. They should be back any time." 

Engie took all this without so much as a flinch. "Kinda feels like I been gone over by the medi-gun. Where was I shot?"

"Leg." Demo pointed, and Engie pulled back the blanket to reveal his torn pant leg. "Through and through, no bullet in ye. The worst of it was the drugs. We dinnae know what the lads gave you, besides chloroform. Something strong by all reckoning." 

"That explains it." Engie sat back against the wall and looked at his leg. "Never reacted well to painkillers, 'specially more than one kind. Make me all..." He gestured at his face. "Had a few blackouts before this. Don't remember much of, well," He held up his metal hand, "This, for instance. Doc told me I had a good laugh at a lamp and fell off the operating table. Don't remember anything before Pyro woke me up the next day for dinner." 

"That's some blackout." Demo regarded him with a bit more concern. "Any other side effects I ought know about?"

Engie paused. He was sweating again, despite the cool they'd managed to achieve inside the van. "Memory blanks, I get woozy sometimes... Once, I near killed Scout cause I couldn't figure out where I was. Paranoia, you could say. And I could sleep for hours." He chuckled. Demo was not finding this quite so amusing. 

"Is it on and off, or do you reckon you're done?"

"Might be another night's sleep before I'm a hundred percent." He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "This happens too, now that I think about it." Engie was shivering slightly. Demo frowned. No wonder Medic had him mix special dosages. If your average- albeit very strong- painkiller did this to Engie, he could only imagine what non-medigun procedures looked like. Medic was fond enough of them. 

"Demo, where are we?" Engie gave the van another look. 

"We're at the gang's complex, should've told you that to begin with. Sorry lad. We all drove out here together for the big rescue."

"No," he pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders. "Why are we in Sniper's van?" 

Thunder crackled overhead, and another noise reached Demo's ears. It started out low, but quickly overtook even the sound of the rain. Demo frowned again. An air raid siren? In this weather? A little noise to his left brought him back to the here and now. He dived for the waste bin Sniper had under his table and shove it into Engie's lap just in time. The van jiggled slightly in the wind. All this motion must've upset his stomach. 

Demo kept one hand on the bucket, and the other under Engie's arm to keep him upright. His friend was white as a sheet and trembling. The drugs must've... It didn't line up with anything Engie had described. Paranoia, blackouts, and hot flashes, sure. But this was new. He hadn't eaten anything recently. Was the wind making him motion sick? 

"Demo." Engie croaked. His hand shot out and near crushed the Scotsman's. Eyerbows rose at the white-knuckled grip. What was going on here? 

Engie tried to sit up. "We gotta go. We... we need to get somewhere safe. This isn't..." He doubled over the bucket again, stomach empty but heaving. "We're gonna die out here."

"The air raid? Lad, it's a false alarm. I bet the storm short-circuited-" Engie's hand clenched around his more tightly. 

"No air-raid. That's a... tornado siren. Sky's green, Demo, we gotta get somewhere safe. It's coming." Engie was shuddering more violently than he had before. His eyes were unfocused and he was holding onto Demo for dear life. "Camper's not safe. We could get picked up and..." He was trying to swallow down another round of dry heaves. Demo grabbed him under the arms and kept him upright. 

"We can't go out there. You'll catch your death of a cold. Medic'll have my head besides."

Engie looked like he hadn't even heard. "Campers aren't safe. Granny Hazel didn't- she didn't have nowhere to go neither. Hundred-an'-sixty mile per hour winds picked her up and..."

This wasn't a new symptom- it was a known one flaring up at the worst possible time. Paranoia, coupled with what looked like a deep rooted fear was sending Engie into a panic. Demo couldn't say he was perfectly calm either. This kind of terror in a man who knew no fear on the battlefield was enough to quicken his heart rate. Every man was afraid of something, to be sure. Demo knew he would dissolve in the face of a non-zero number of snakes. It was unfortunate that they had to cope with Engie's personal nightmare while he was still battling an unknown drug cocktail. 

So, the Scotsman did what he could. He scooped the blankets up and buried the Engineer in them. Then, he dragged the whole bundle up in his arms. Hopefully, the feeling of security would be enough to induce calm. There was a very real threat outside, but Engineer was literally worried sick. He needed to relax or he could wind up worsening his condition. It was going to be hard to pull off. The siren was starting to fray Demo's nerves as well. They'd just unveiled a new scale to measure these storms by, and to Demo's memory, 160 mph wasn't even in the neighborhood of how bad it could get. 

Engie pressed his face into Demo's shoulder. "Gotta get underground." He pleaded. "We can't stay here! We have to run while it's not too late!" 

Demo was about to reply when the door opened with enough force to make the pair of them start. It wasn't the wind. 

* * *

 

"I _hate_  Texas! Curse Engineer and his whole wretched state!" 

Spy, Spotlight, Heavy, Medic, Pyro, and Sniper hurried down the pathway in the direction of the storm cellar. The rain was slowing down, but it hardly seemed like a good sign. As far as Spy knew, the sky was not supposed to be that color. According to his sources, the storm cellar was on the other side of the office building which, thanks to Soldier, was now in flames. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, but think of Soldier and he shall scare the daylights out of you. The madman dropped out of a second story window and bounced off the portable directly in front of them. 

"Mission accomplished!" He grinned triumphantly. "Those cows will not know what hit them! That building is going to need to be rezoned as a cemetery ground, boys!" 

"Good work, Soldier." Heavy bellowed. "Now, we must rescue Scout from... from Soviet cows." 

"Right you are! Lead the way, fat man!" Soldier brought up the rear. Spy, instead of Heavy, pointed the way. He quickly found the double-door hatch sticking up out of the dirt and threw it open. 

"Everyone inside! Quickly!" Spy helped Spotlight over the threshold, and Heavy set Medic down so he could get down the steps. 

"What about Engineer and Demo?" Heavy asked. "They are still in van!"

" _HRRMRRRPH?"_

They had forgotten to tell Pyro. The fire axe fell and embedded itself in the mud. In seconds, Pyro had fled halfway back down the path, with Sniper still over one shoulder. Heavy turned to call them back when Spy grabbed his arm.

"We cannot stop 'im!" He called over the wind. "We must get inside before it hits!" 

Reluctantly, Heavy followed him down the stairs and through the door. They found their companions inside, as well as Dave, Barry, and a deck of cards. Medic was pulling Soldier away from the two terrified ex-gangsters, and Spotlight-

She and Scout were collapsed on the floor, holding each other too tightly to be pulled apart by anything. Spy could see her son's face just past her wet hair. He'd tried to bury it in her shoulder, but the damp couldn't hide his tears. 

"Ma..." He sniffed. "Ma what're you doin' here?"

"You just shut it for a minute and let me hug you." She tightened her arms around him. "You could'a died. Died for _real_  an' I'd'a never known, so just you be quiet!" Scout's Ma held her baby boy and wasn't about to let him go for anything. 

Spy felt something stir in his chest. Part of him wished to join them, to take up his _petite_  and... and her boy in his arms. But, this wasn't his place. He, no matter what he had wanted once, wasn't a part of this here and now. Spy turned to close the hatch doors. 

"What about little man?" Heavy asked behind him. 

"I won't lock them." Spy replied. “If they get back in time... We can lock the doors then. In the meantime, this will be sufficient. We are underground." He climbed back down the stairs and shut the inner door. 

"Oh hey!" Dave poked out from behind his human shield. "It's you guys!" Barry looked too, from where he was hiding behind Medic. 

"Oui. You kept your end of the bargain. Soldier, leave them alone. They are on our side."

Soldier lowered his shovel. "Double agents, huh? Good thinking. The cows will never suspect Texans of being on the American team!"

The boys looked at him for answers but got none. "Yes. But for now, we will remain here. Until the storm passes, it will not be safe to go outside." 

"You're right." Barry spoke up. "It was fixin' to be a bad one, and this time the weather guys were right. There's probably a watch for the whole county." 

All eyes turned to him. Medic took up the question on all their minds. "As several non-Texans, what might we expect fro this twister of yours?"

Barry licked his lips nervously. "It's probably not going to be a big one, so late in the season, but there's never a guarantee. Could be 200 mile an hour winds, cars flying, houses ripped up. But that's worst-case-scenario. More than likely, we'll just get some fences knocked over and some hail." 

"But we are all safe down here, yes?"

"Yeah." Dave said. "It's rare to have a storm cellar out here, but this one looks real nice. I bet it holds up." 

Relief washed through the room. None of them had experienced anything quite like this before. All the doom and gloom was unsettling. But, for once, they seemed to have caught a break. 

"Ma," Scout broke the silence quietly. "What're you doin' here? Did these bozos drag you all the way out to this dump?" 

She looked at him again, lifting his face and tilting his head to look for bruises. She found plenty, but none that looked too bad. "You didn't call. I know you better than that. So I called your work and they sent Spy and Engineer down here to get you back. I met 'em at the airport. It's what any mother would do for her baby."

"Aw, Ma-" She pulled him back into a hug. He couldn't lie. He was really happy to see her. "You didn't have to come all this way. The guys could'a taken care of it."

"On the contrary," Spy interrupted, "your mother was invaluable to the mission. She managed to threaten information out of some of the most notorious men in the state."

Scout suddenly got between his mother and the Spy. "You put her through all that? Why I oughta-"

"On the contrary. I could not _stop her_." He could see Scout putting more pieces together, noticing for the first time the jacket his mother was wearing, and Spy's borrowed shirt. 

"What kinda- Cut the crap, Spy, what did you do?"

His mother got between them. "Jeremy! We just spent the last two days tearin' the county apart to find you. Now you sit your butt down an' let your Ma tell you what happened or I swear I ain't lettin' you outta my sight ever again!"

Scout sat back down. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the end! Epilogue inbound. Just too impatient to finish before posting

Engineer was holding onto Demo like a lifeline. That door flying open had given him the shock of his life, and he was in for another one. 

"Pyro!"

"Sniper!" 

The firebug slammed the door, dumped the Aussie on the half-couch, and threw its arms around Engineer. 

"Rmmph rrn mph!" Pyro pulled him out of Demo's grasp and rocked him back and forth in a hug. "Mrr mph _rrr_  rrmrrh mph mrrph!" 

Demo took the opportunity to pick Sniper off the floor. The poor man hadn't been able to keep his balance. He looked like he'd been run through a washing machine with a full load worth of rocks. Sniper gladly accepted Demo's help up. 

"Thanks, mate. Am I glad t'see you. I thought Pyro was makin' off with me." 

"He about was." Demo helped him back onto the couch. "I don't think he's seen Engie in almost a day. Likely worried to pieces." 

Sniper held his arm a moment longer. "A couple times in there, I was pretty sure we weren't gonna make it." He found Demo's eye. "I'm glad you came an' got me. When I spoke to you on the phone... Wasn't sure I'd talk to any of you again." 

Demo wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You're back now, laddie. Soon, you'll be tossin' jars and shootin' folks again. It'll be no time at all."

Sniper actually laughed. "The desert sounds pretty good right about-" His eyes widened with realization, then shot to Pyro and the little mattress. "Truckie! You're alive!" He shot up off the couch and barely managed to keep his feet long enough for Demo to stand and catch him. 

Engie was shaking in Pyro's tight hug. He wasn't as pale as before, but still plenty unnerved. "Sniper! They didn't kill you neither!" Demo helped the Aussie over to the bed, and Engie got a hand out of Pyro's vice-like embrace. Sniper took it gladly. 

"Good to see you in one piece. We both heard the shot, thought the worst." 

He was met with a shaky smile. "I don't remember a thing, lucky me. You'll have to tell me all about it... But, it's not safe in the van. We gotta get out. I bet there's a shelter zone in the hotel!" He looked to Demo. "We just gotta run a little ways. The desk clerk'll know, if she's not already hunkering down."

Sniper turned back to Demo in confusion. "Laddie," he began, "we're nae at the hotel. This is as good as we can do for the time being." 

The blood drained from Engie's face, and Sniper noticed the sweat. "No it ain't." He spoke up. "We can make it to the storm cellar. That's where Pyro brought me up from. We'd about made it to the doors when 'e turned around and dragged me back here." 

Demo frowned. "You think we can make it? If the storm blows through while we're out o' doors..." 

"If we run. Sparky, uh..." Sniper tried to get Pyro's attention. "We have to take Truckie back to where we left Spy an' Medic, yeah? He's real sick and we gotta take 'im to the Doc." 

Pyro made a panicked squeak and hoisted Engie- blankets and all- into the air. With the determination of a madman, Pyro flew out the camper and back along the muddy trail. 

"Guess that's a yes, then." Demo pulled Sniper's arm over his shoulders and followed out the door. The wind had all but dropped off, but the sky was still unnatural. 

"They have tornadoes in Oz?"

"Not where I lived. Sorry mate, I'm no help."

"We'll just have to wait it out then." 

They found the cellar doors thrown wide. Demo got in, set Sniper on the stairs, and closed them up tight. They made their way down the rest of the stairs together. 

"Snipes!" Scout poked his head up over the crowd of people. "Ya made it!" 

"So'd you." Scout made his way over with the Akubra in his hands. 

"Forgot somethin' man." He held the hat out. "Gotta cover up that mop. There's a lady present." 

Sniper gave Scout a mock scowl and pulled the hat on. He knew about the lady in question, somewhat. The hat was more of a creature comfort. He felt like himself with it on. Sniper let Demo walk him over to the wall. He wasn't recovered much, even with the sudden surge of adrenaline. Nothing like a tornado to get the blood pumping. 

Of all people, he hadn't expected Spy to greet him first. "So, bushman, you managed to stay alive." 

"And you developed a dress sense."

"Please." Spy scoffed. "You are one to talk." His face got serious. "They are all dead, except for the two imbeciles over there." 

"I know." Sniper had hit the floor before Pyro took an axe to Louie and Brass Frank, but he'd heard enough. Seen enough blood over Pyro's shoulder to know. "Thanks for gettin' us out." 

Spy inclined his head. "There was more than one mother waiting for 'er son." With that, he turned and headed toward the mother he knew. It was odd, the scene playing out before him. Scout and his Ma were playing cards with two young fellas Sniper was sure had been part of the gang, Spy wasn't fussing with anyone, Soldier was napping by the door... If it weren't for the tornado siren and a million bruises, he'd say it was a team day out. 

Heavy walked over to where Sniper was sitting with Pyro under one arm and Engie under the other. He set the Texan down and kept a firm hold on the firebug. "Little man needs rest. Cannot rest if he is being squished." He gave a pointed look to Pyro, who visibly deflated. Medic joined them and put in his two cents. 

"Engineer's condition, and memory, will improve with time. As will yours, Herr Sniper, once I can retrieve my medi-gun. Alas, it is in the trunk of my car. As soon as the storm lets up, however, we shall have you back up and ready to shoot people."

Sniper gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks Doc. I'll be alright for a while. Got most of the blood still in me."

"As it should be." Medic grinned. "Come, Heavy. Let us keep our little matchstick busy." 

Sniper watched them go until a blanket was pushed in front of his nose. "Here. I got too many." Truckie gave him a lopsided grin. "Too hot in here with all these folks anyhow."

"No it ain't." Demo took the proffered blanket and wrapped it around Sniper's shoulders. He then got up and proceeded to fold Engie back into a burrito. "That's the drugs talkin', laddie." Demo settled between the two of them and wrapped an arm around both their shoulders. 

"Who died an' made 'im nurse?" Sniper murmured Engie's way. 

"Me, I think." Engie chuckled. "Or you, Stretch. Don't reckon I know."

Sniper shook his head. "Better you don't remember, Truckie. Weren't much important that you missed. Besides, since I missed the flight, you 'ave to take me to that steakhouse you're always goin' on about. Bet it don't hold a candle to a real Australian barbecue." 

"Oh just you wait." Being warm and stationary sapped the energy right out of him. Engie blinked slowly. "It'll knock that crooked lid right off your head." 

"You're on." Sniper's grin stayed even as Engie checked out for a rest. "What in the world did they give 'im, and do you reckon Medic'll let me have some?"

Demo snorted. "Not while I'm the pharmacist you won't. I ain't runnin' a bloody lounge." 

"Alright, alright." Sniper leaned his head back on the wall. "'S good to be back, mate." 

Even in a murder hole with his team on a rainy day, it was good to be back. 

* * *

 

"Go fish."

"Again? You're killin' me here, Barry." Scout went fishing for another card. He, Dave, Barry, and his Ma were on their fifth round. Spy's interest had been piqued by the cards but abandoned the game once they established that they wouldn't be playing poker. It was Dave's deck, and he didn't know many games. They decided they'd still play for chips, specifically, the snacks Dave had brought down during the original storm-cellar exodus.

Scout had taken a liking to the pair immediately. He'd been ready to fight these two skinny dudes (really, dudes about his own size) the minute they'd walked into the cellar, but between the limb freedom and the bribe of pretzel sticks, Scout had held off on the pummeling. For the time being. They told him everything he wanted to know, from who they'd seen to what the plan was. Barry said they'd managed to patch up and deliver Engie back to the other guys. Scout skipped over the part about the unmarked packet of painkillers. He figured between Medic and Demo it'd get settled. If it didn't he could always beat them up then.

And these dudes liked baseball! They were real pumped about the possibility of getting their own MLB team. Sure, they'd said, Houston has a team, but it's not the same. They kept on amicably enough, neither mentioning their team's respective bad records this season. Nobody they liked (or hated) was going to the World Series this year. Scout offered up his support, for what it was worth, on the team moving to Arlington.

"Never liked the Senators anyways. Hopefully you guys won't get stuck with a sucky team."

"Thanks. Hopefully Boston breaks the curse next year, right?"

"Yeah. There's always next season."

Yeah, they weren't bad guys once you got to know them. His Ma seemed to like 'em well enough. And she was a pretty good judge of character, 'cept where Spy was concerned. Of all the dudes' jackets she could'a shown up wearing...

At least the rest of the team was OK. Besides Engie and Snipes, nobody else even got hurt. They were just relaxing, just like any other weekend, only there was a huge frickin' storm goin' on outside.

"Hey, so uh," Scout started, "how long we oughta stay down here like? Another hour?"

Dave shuffled the cards in his hand. "Probably? I dunno, this is a big one. I'm thinking about just, y'know, waiting it out? Better safe than sorry."

"That's fair." Scout wished he had a more solid answer. Wasn't so much as a radio in this joint. They couldn't get the news or nothin'! Depending on who was making the calls (probably Spy) they might have to spend the rest of the afternoon in here. The backstabber himself had gone up in the staircase to smoke. Why was anyone's guess. Scout figured he probably couldn't take the noise. 

It wasn't super loud, like, 'Demo and Medic are going on a bender' loud, but somebody who wasn't a people person (Spy) might not enjoy it so much. Demo and Medic weren't drinking themselves, but they had poked a straw (got that from who knows where) through the slot Pyro's mask filter and were trying to get the lunatic drunk with a bottle (from Demo knows exactly where) of some real average-quality liquor. Could the Pyro even get drunk? They were gonna find out. 

Heavy'd smuggled in a book and was relaxing in the corner. He was on-and-off policing Soldier's nap, every so often encouraging him to go back to sleep and 'fight off the soviet cow-rays to which Heavy is immune'. Soldier complied. Real shocker, that one. Engie and Sniper were passed out too, kinda slouched up against each other in the cavity Demo had left between them. 'S all right. If anybody deserved some sleep it was those two. Geez, what a mess this was. 

Scout pondered his hand. He had three twos, two fours, an ace, an eight, and a seven. A little over the desired seven-card hand, but it was workable. So long as nobody-

"Scout, sweetie, you got any twos?"

Scout groaned. "Aw, Ma!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue you've been waiting for!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with this mercenary thrill ride all the way to the end. Again, sorry for making y'all wait such a long time. 
> 
> Fun fact! If you remember Landmark Tower and the good ol' CNB Clock from a earlier on, that's a real building I definitely watched implode in downtown Fort Worth. All that stuff about it is period-accurate too, all the way down to it being visible from Dallas. Just some fun trivia. 
> 
> And if y'all can guess any other Fort Worth themed Easter-eggs I dropped, well, then you're probably from around there.

When it was time to figure out who was riding in what vehicle, there was a considerable amount of arguing. It seemed all the wrong people _wanted_ to drive, and all the right people _didn’t_.

“I’m fit as a fiddle, ain’t no reason I shouldn’t be able to drive!”

“Engie, mate, you were shot. Let it alone.” Demo hated being the voice of reason. Really, it ought to fall to somebody else to be in charge, but he remembered just how well that had worked last time. Soldier wasn’t allowed to drive the van or the truck, which left Medic’s car as the only potential vehicle. On that note, Engie, Sniper, and Scout weren’t about to be allowed in the same car with him behind the wheel. That left the three of them for one of the other vehicles.

“I can take a cab to the airport. It’s fine.” Scout’s Mother waved a hand at the boys. They had enough figuring to do without her in the mix.

“Nah, come on, Ma, we’re droppin’ you off. Don’t want some sleazy ranch-hand getting’ all up in your business.” Scout was peeling off his last band-aid while Sniper took a turn under the medigun. As it turned out, whatever tornado there might have been didn’t touch down anywhere near the compound. They’d weathered the night and had found everything mostly whole when they returned. Medic had promptly fished out his kit and began working over the injured.

Dave nudged Barry. “We can drive you, ma’am. If y’all are in a hurry, that is.”

“No offense, but I would rather send her to the airport on a horse.” Spy flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette.

“None uh… none taken?”

“Frenchie.” Scout’s Ma shook her head at him. “It really ain’t a big deal. I’m a grown woman. It’s the airport. Not like I’m hitchhiking back to Boston.”

Spy seemed put out by the whole affair. And it was not an appealing prospect, the ten-hour drive back to New Mexico. “Still, for your safety, _ma belle…_ ”

“I’ve got it, then.” Demo took the reins back. “Heavy, drive Engineer’s truck to the airport with Scout’s Mum, and then we can figure out the rest once we get there.”

“No, it’d be a mess trying to talk this out at the airport!” Engineer spoke up from his seat on the truck bed. He fidgeted with the end of his glove. “We best sort this now so we can make a quick swap at the airport.”

Demo massaged the bridge of his nose. Of course. “Scout’s Mum rides with Heavy there. You, Sniper, and Scout are stayin’ in the van. Medic’s car seats four comfortably, so we have him drive with Soldier as his alternate. Pyro rides with Medic until we get to the airport, where the little fella can switch to Engineer’s truck.”

“That will appease it.” Spy interjected. “But did you forget about me?”

“Of course not.” Demo waved him off. “You can ride with Medic and Soldier. That work for everybody?”

The general consensus was yes, even though Engie and Sniper objected to not being allowed to drive.

“How ‘bout we reconfigure at the halfway mark?” Engineer suggested a little too quickly. “If things start lookin’ better or one of y’all gets tired.”

“I’m for it.” Sniper stood up from where he was seated. “Just got some bruises, and those are gone now. Should be fine to drive.”

Demo crossed his arms. “We’ll see in five hours. Anyway-“ He turned back to Heavy, “That all work for you, lad?”

Heavy nodded. “Can deal with little man. He likes cassette tapes.” The Pyro in question was busy swinging their legs off the tail of Engineer’s truck in excitement.

“I have one more sedative.” Medic said softly. “But would it be better to give it to Soldier instead?”

Engineer found a water bottle being thrust into his hands. “Drink up, maggots! As they said in the desert campaigns of Southern California, ‘hydrate or die-drate’! We may have been able to destroy the cows’ stronghold, but there may be stragglers roaming the plains.” Soldier planted himself, hands on his hips, in front of Engineer until the cap came off and the water started disappearing. “That’s the spirit!”

“ _Oui._ ” Spy replied. “If we wish for him to survive the trip back… _Ma belle,_ does this arrangement suit you?” He turned toward his Spotlight, his _raison d’etre_ , who was standing arm-in-arm with her son. She smiled warmly at him, while Scout gave him a look that was… less than pleasant.

“Yeah, that’s alright. You uh… You reckon the truck has room for one more, just for the trip to the airport?” She squeezed Scout’s arm. “I don’t get to see him all that often.”

Heavy and Demo exchanged glances before the Russian spoke. “Is fine. You are both tiny. We will all fit.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, big guy.” Scout scoffed, but he didn’t challenge any further. It seemed he’d missed his mother as much as she missed him. In all this, it felt like a miracle. He could hardly believe she’d come all this way and done all this for him. Like, he knew his Ma was a superstar, better than anybody else’s Ma for certain. This, though… There was an extra mile she’d gone for her boy. She’d put herself into a deadly pair of shoes and marched right up to a group of dangerous men. Then, she’d kicked the ever lovin’ crap outta them.

“Let’s get you settled, Ma. I’m sure getting’ a flight arranged won’t be so bad.”

“ _Non_ , it will not.”

They moved around to the cab of the truck. That was their cue. Engineer passed off the water bottle to Pyro before turning to make sure the luggage was stowed. He’d assisted in water-cleaning maneuvers, but now it looked like they were really heading out. Finally. He’d felt an immense relief crossing the border back in his home state, but it was time to get back to the base. Texas may be home, but he had a job to do.

“So long.” Engineer whispered to the sweet air. They’d be in-state another six or seven hours, but it felt like the last time he’d be allowed out of Sniper’s van until the tires stopped in their own driveway. Maybe he’d get more time coming up. They never knew when they’d catch a break like this one. Could be any time. “Come on, Py, you’re gonna ride with the Doc and Spy for a little bit, OK?”

Pyro shuffled off the bed of the truck so Engie could close it up. “Mrrh hrmrr mmph hrmrph mrr?”

“Aw, I’m sure Medic will let you play it. And if he don’t, it’s only a half hour to the airport. Then, you’ll get to ride in my truck and play all the tapes you like.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at Heavy, who didn’t seem upset about the prospect of over ten hours of country music, some repeated.

They went their separate ways, but someone caught Engineer’s shoulder before he could enter the van.

“Laborer.”

“Spy.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as they did anything but make eye contact for a moment. They hadn’t parted on excellent terms, at least in Engineer’s mind. If there was a complaint to be made, Spy could take it and-

“My apologies.”

Engineer’s eyes widened. That was unexpected. Off all the things he’d figured Spy would say, ‘sorry’ didn’t even make the top hundred.

“It was as a result of my plan that you were captured and shot. For that, I owe you an apology.”

That was sure something you didn’t hear every day. Engineer squared with him and met Spy’s eye. “No need to apologize. I reckon we all ran off half-cocked, and I don’t blame you for any of this mess. If anybody’s to blame, it’s Mundy-“ that earned him an indignant “Oi!” from the van, “-and even then he didn’t hardly instigate it. So it’s alright. We’re square.”

Spy blinked. He knew Engineer was the forgiving sort, but this was a little unexpected. “Very well.” There was nothing that need be said, but so much more he felt as if he should cover. Perhaps they were better off not discussing the cigarettes destroyed in Sniper’s van, nor the damage to the hotel phone. Maybe some things need not be said. Maybe the apology said enough.

“Well, I better get settled. I’m sure Sniper will want shotgun no matter what the state of his driving ban.” Engineer hooked his thumbs into his overalls and headed off. “See you at the rest stop, Slim.”

Spy flicked the ash off his cigarette and made for Medic’s van.

“Demo, mate, I’m fine to drive, honest.”

“No.”

“What about me?” Engie stuck his face up to the dividing window. “Doc cleared me of injury hours ag-“

“No. Neither of you are driving, so shut up an’ stay in your seats.”

Both men settled to their respective spots in a huff. Demo relaxed in the driver’s seat. He’d won again.

“At least let me call home and tell Mum the flight got, er, cancelled.”

Demo sighed heavily. He _hated_ being in charge. “Go. But if you so much _look_ at another car-“

Sniper was gone in a flash, moving quick enough for someone able to drive. Engineer peered out from his prison at the lucky dog. Maybe this was just the team’s idea of fun, making him suffer like this.

Outside the van, a lot of exchanges were being made. Spy and Medic moved the unconscious Soldier into the backseat of Medic’s car. Pyro bounced up and down gleefully in Engineer’s truck, already blasting country music at the loudest acceptable volume. Heavy stretched his legs.

“Sorry the trip got ruined, Ma… I was plannin’ all sorts of stuff like takin’ you out to dinner, goin’ to the park…”

His mother smiled and let her suitcase go a moment. “We got to play cards and spend time with your team. How ‘bout we do the next one with no kidnapping? Well, maybe just the chef at Rosemary’s…”

Scout actually laughed and hugged her. “You got it! It’s gonna be the classiest kidnapping dinner you ever had.”

Spy could agree. Her last ‘kidnapping dinner’ (that he knew about) had been years ago. The wine was his favorite, the food divine, but he did not like being handcuffed to the table. She was a very persuasive woman… Regardless, this might be the last time he saw her for a while. He would respect Scout’s fairly reasonable paranoia and keep his goodbyes tame. This time.

“Will you need any assistance with your luggage? I trust the flight accommodations are to your liking…”

Miss Pauling had been more than willing to help pull some strings after being appraised of the situation. Anyone who saved her employer some time and or money…

“They’re fine, hon.” She pulled out the handle on her suitcase and was ready to roll. Suddenly, her face fell into a look of stunned realization. “Oh no… I nearly forgot!”

Involuntarily, Spy found himself taking a step closer. “What is it?”

The words had hardly left his mouth before a pair of manicured hands had him by the lapels and Scout’s exclamations were drowned out by the hoots and hollers of six other mercenaries. She pulled back, winked, and left with that same spring in her step she’d had for 25 years.

Spy left the airport in Medic’s car, emotionally lighter, but an unacknowledged few ounces heavier. He didn’t find the scrap of paper with the phone number and a quaint “XOXO” tucked behind his pocket-handkerchief until they stopped several hours later.

But of course he hadn’t noticed. The Spotlight was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again y'all!


End file.
